Drowning In You
by emerald sorceress
Summary: Someone is drowning young women in Camelot. With no motive and no suspects, Morgana must work out who the murderer is before she becomes the next victim…
1. A Book & A Body

**Title:** Drowning In You

**Rating:** T

**Pairing: **Arthur/Morgana.

**Summary:** Someone is drowning young women in Camelot. With no motive and no suspects, Morgana must work out who the murderer is before she becomes the next victim…

* * *

"Morgana! We shouldn't be in here."

The ten year old girl turned to her companion, little fists on her hips.

"Then go away," she whispered fiercely to him. "I didn't make you come. If you're too scared about what Uther will say then you can leave." She turned back to the archive shelves. "Baby."

"I am not a baby," the boy hissed, and pinched her on the arm.

"Ow!" She pinched him back harder.

For a moment there was an all out war, as the two children desperately tired to win the battle of who exactly was in charge. That was, until the young boy stumbled back from a particularly vicious pinch into one of the bookshelves.

"Watch out!"

For a moment the wooden case wobbled dangerously, hundreds of old leather bound books creaking on the shelves, threatening to topple over and crush them. Morgana sucked in a breath and held out her hand to steady them.

A shower of disturbed dust drifted down…and then the bookcase righted itself.

"Arthur!" Morgana murmured, trying not to sneeze. "Look what you almost did."

The boy prince merely crossed his arms, his hair grey with grime. "It was your fault."

"Was not."

"Was too."

"Is anyone there?"

Both children froze at the sound of the archivist's voice. Geoffrey's slow, measured footsteps echoed close by.

"Come on, this way." Morgana pulled Arthur along as they crept further into the bowels of the Archive Room, until the archivist's footsteps had died away.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see." The young girl flipped her hair over her shoulder and scanned along the bottom shelves, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

"What are we looking for?"

Morgana ignored him, found the back wall of the room and counted twenty paces to her left. She dropped to her knees (recently scabbed from falling off her horse last week) and pulled out a book as thick as a man's thigh, stained the colour of rust and fading at the edges.

"Here."

"Grimacre's Folktales." Arthur frowned, reading the front cover. "But why's it in the forbidden section?"

"Because-" Morgana stopped suddenly and pressed a finger to her lips as Geoffrey's footsteps sounded nearby.

Silently, the children carried the book between them and hurried out of the Archive.

"Which room?"

"Mine's closer," Morgana urged. "Hurry."

It didn't take long for them to reach the bedroom as they scurried down (thankfully) deserted corridors. Morgana toed open the door and they slipped inside. She pushed it shut again, lit the candle left on her dressing table, and motioned towards the large oak four poster bed in the corner of the room.

"Under there."

The children dropped to the floor and crawled under, pushing the book between them. Morgana reached for the candle and brought it with her illuminating the dark recesses under the bed. In the flickering light they eagerly flipped the cover open and began to flick through the pages.

"It's forbidden because it's got really nasty pictures in it," said Morgana excitedly, her head touching Arthur's as they both leaned closer to get a better look. "I heard Gaius talking about it last week with Father Markus. He called it in-inflaty-inflamaty?" She wrinkled her nose. "It was really bad anyway. Apparently, the man who wrote it disguised it as a children's book but it was really all about demons."

"What happened to him?"

Morgana picked at a scab on her knuckles (made from punching Leon in the face last week for daring to call her a girl) and shrugged. "Don't know. They didn't say." Her attention swiftly distracted she pointed at one of the illustrations. "Ew."

Arthur tilted his head to one side. "Looks a bit like Aunt Margareta in the morning."

Morgana giggled. "Except your aunt has a longer beard."

Arthur turned back to the contents page and ran his finger down the endless catalogue of disturbing creatures. "Banshees, cherufes, cockatrices, dwarves, fossegrim, goblins, kobolds, nixies, senmurvs, tikbalangs, trolls, wyverns…"

He flicked on a few pages. "Here look at this one. A Bishop Fish." Arthur traced a finger over the illustration of a bearded priest with scales on his lower body. "No wonder Father Markus didn't like it. It kind of looks like him."

Morgana wrinkled her nose at the next picture along. "That's disgusting. It looks like the cabbage we had for dinner."

"If the cabbage had fangs, pincers and was covered in guts," Arthur pointed out. He ran his finger back over the contents page and frowned. "They've missed one out."

"What? Which one?"

Arthur grinned. "I can't see any Morganas mentioned."

She shoved him playfully. "Ha-ha. They've probably got a whole book on you. The Arthur demon. Smells really bad and looks awful." She grinned. "Squeals like a girl when confronted."

Arthur was just poking his tongue out when the bedroom door swung open on its hinges.

"Morgana?"

The young girl groaned and blew out the candle. "Maybe she won't see us in the dark."

"Morgana. I can hear you whispering. Come out now. And Prince Arthur. It's time for bed."

Arthur wordlessly pushed at the loose flagstone under the bed. Beneath it was a large hole filled with things they'd stolen; a silver spoon, one of Gaius' specimen jars full of harpy toenails, a squashed butterfly and a piece of Arthur's birthday cake from last week, wrapped up in an old tunic. Arthur dropped the book gently into their treasure hole, and then pulled the flagstone back.

"Children. If you don't come out this second, I'm coming under there for you."

Arthur and Morgana shared a look and wriggled out from beneath the bed into the light of a candle, held aloft by the formidable figure of the children's Nursemaid. Nanny Edda peered down disapprovingly at them.

"What were you doing under there? Morgana, you've got your dress all dirty." She turned to the boy beside her and clucked her tongue. "Prince Arthur, you're filthy. Your father's going to have a fit."

There was a light tap on the door and Sarah, the children's waiting maid put her head round. "I thought I'd find you all here." She held out her hand for the prince. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed."

Arthur frowned, debated having a tantrum, glanced at Morgana and then decided it wasn't very princely. Especially now he was eight.

He took his nursemaid's hand unwillingly.

"Say goodnight," said Nanny Edda.

" 'Night."

And then Arthur was pulled out of the room, his face showing his displeasure, even as he was powerless to do anything to stop the slow progression to his room and his bed.

Fifteen minutes later, her hair brushed and face, hands and feet scrubbed clean Morgana lay tucked up in bed.

"But I'm not tired," she yawned.

Nanny Edda merely shook her head and eyed the hole that had appeared in Morgana's day dress. "Of course you're not," she replied evenly, her figure framed in the doorway. "Now go to sleep."

When Morgana was sure her Nanny was long gone down the corridor, and the room was only lit by the shafts of moonlight slipping under the curtain, she crawled out of the sheets and hung her head over the side of the bed.

"Goodnight book."

She slid back under the covers and twirled a piece of hair between her fingers. She yawned loudly.

"I'm not sleepy," she muttered, and went to sleep dreaming of rescuing Arthur from a bog troll.

* * *

**Thirteen years later...**

"Arthur! I'm going to wring your stupid neck!"

The prince merely laughed breathlessly as he ran down the castle corridors, followed at a distance by his father's irate ward.

"Come back here you coward, so I can strangle you properly!"

Arthur laughed even harder, bumped into Merlin and clutching at his shirt dragged him with him as he raced along a corridor.

"What have you done this time?"

Arthur grinned. "Remember Lord Bedworth and his children Bridget and Thaniel? They visited several years ago - Bedworth had a beard you could've hidden small children in. His son had the unfortunate face."

"Not the one who had the really high voice and all that..." Merlin motioned vaguely to his face, unable to help the faint grimace of disgust that appeared in his expression. "You know..."

"It wasn't pretty," Arthur agreed, skidding round a corner. "Like a mountain range had erupted across it."

From behind them there was a muffled curse as Morgana bumped into a servant carrying towels as she pursued them. Clean bed linen flew everywhere.

"_Arthur!_"

Merlin winced at the angry shriek but it seemed to make Arthur smile even wider. "What exactly have you done?" He asked tentatively.

"Father's invited them to visit again. And I may have _accidentally_ added a postscript to his letter telling Lord Bedworth that Morgana is madly in love with his son and desperately wants to see him."

There was a scream of outrage from far down the corridor.

"How did she find out?"

Arthur smirked. "Apparently Father mentioned at breakfast that Bedworth's reply had been somewhat unusual, in that he was looking forward to uniting the House of Gorlois and the House of Dunheny. Apparently, he also inquired whether Morgana wanted a spring or a summer wedding."

Neatly dodging a maid carrying flagons of wine, Arthur suddenly pulled Merlin round the final corner and into the cool recesses of the Manuscript Archives.

"But the last time he visited was five years ago. What if his…" Merlin grimaced. "What if his face has changed?"

Arthur ran his fingers over the dusty tomes stacked end to end and let out a bark of laughter. "For the better? It would take a miracle. He had a face only his mother could love. And she's dead. Now for Thaniel to get _uglier_ in five years. That I can believe."

"Still." Merlin hesitated. "It does seem rather unfair to Morgana."

"Don't tell me you're taking her side?"

Merlin was saved from replying by Geoffrey's greying head appearing around a bookshelf.

"Sire!" The archivist frowned, bowed and then frowned again. "Whatever brings you to the manuscript room?"

"Oh, just looking for some reading material. You know."

Geoffrey's brows rose. "Reading material?"

Arthur scowled. "Yes, reading material. Or perhaps you think I can't read and that I'm an idiot."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Merlin muttered quietly. It wasn't quiet enough, as Arthur clipped him round the head.

"No sire! Of course not! It's just that you've never been in here before and I was surprised," Geoffrey hastily apologised. "What can I interest you in?" He began moving away down the aisles of tomes. "We have some excellent _Histories of the Ages_ by Father Angelotti or perhaps _A Treatise upon the Founding of the Middle Empire in the Time of_…"

"Go and see if Morgana's gone," Arthur whispered to Merlin as the archivist continued to list book titles.

By the time Merlin had returned, Arthur was holding a stack of books and clearly regretting using the manuscript room as a hiding place.

"No sign of her."

"Good." Arthur thrust the books at Merlin, who staggered under the weight, and hurried out of the room. "Come on."

They had almost made it back to the prince's room when Morgana suddenly appeared around a corner. Arthur hastily backtracked…into a wall. Realizing he was trapped he crossed his arms and tried to look nonchalant.

"Aren't you too old for practical jokes?" she snapped.

"Oh come on, Morgana. It's funny." When her expression remained unchanged his smile dimmed somewhat. "You used to be able to take a joke."

"Yes," she retorted, "when you weren't writing foolish love notes in my name. Bedworth's coming thinking I'm madly in love with his son. Do you realise how embarrassing that is for me?"

"I'll just go and wait over there," Merlin motioned. He was ignored.

"Morgana, I-"

"You just don't think, do you? I have hundreds of men courting me. I don't need you offering any of them encouragement."

"I'm so sorry to have inconvenienced your love life." Arthur rolled his eyes. "And who are these poor sods anyway?"

"You know most of them," she retorted. "Your knights seem to make up the vast number."

"I had no idea," replied Arthur, in surprise. "I'll have a word with them. They have no idea what they're letting themselves in for."

"You're obnoxious," Morgana scowled. "And don't you dare speak to them. Everything's fine until you get involved. I'll be having them asking Uther for permission for my hand next." She put her hands on her hips. "What if Thaniel asks me to marry him?"

"Then say no. No-one's forcing you to marry the man, Morgana."

"Uther might."

"Father wouldn't marry you off to Thaniel."

"Why not?" Morgana began to tick off points against her fingers. "We've known each other since childhood, he's rich, titled, and it would be a good alliance. Besides, other women my age are married now with children."

Arthur had suddenly turned serious. "He wouldn't."

"Well Lord Bedworth certainly seems to expect there'll be a wedding."

It began to rain heavily outside, great drops of water thudding against the window panes rapidly. Morgana stared out through the glass, and for a moment as the light reflected it looked as though the rain was slipping down her cheeks. She turned back to Arthur, her voice clipped.

"Perhaps _you_ can tell him it was just a joke." And with that she turned on her heel back down the corridor.

"Morgana!"

She didn't turn round.

Arthur balled his hand into a fist and smacked the stone wall. He hissed as pain flared through his fingers.

"Sire?"

"Shut up, Merlin."

* * *

The House of Dunheny arrived exactly in time for dinner that evening, as the wind howled around the courtyard and the rain battered against the ramparts.

"Lord Bedworth," Uther greeted as his guests were ushered into the entrance hall, and the servants stripped them of their dripping cloaks. "I hope your journey was an easy one?"

Bedworth spread his hands, his fat fingers glistening with gold rings as he greeted the King.

"Easy enough, easy enough," he agreed. "Damn weather didn't help, but not much you can do about that!" He roared and slapped his thigh as though he'd cracked the greatest joke in the world.

Uther let out a weak chuckle and rested his hand on his son's shoulder.

"You remember my son, Prince Arthur."

Bedworth smiled and bowed, though his stomach wouldn't allow him to bend too far. "You were just a stripling when we visited last. How old were you- ten, eleven?"

"Sixteen, my lord," said Arthur dryly. "I have grown since then."

"Of course, of course." Bedworth smacked him heartily on the shoulder. "I bet you're chasing all the serving girls these days. That's what we used to do in our day, eh Uther?" Bedworth chuckled and leaned in closer, so that his bushy auburn beard tickled Arthur's nose. "They always put up a bit of a fight but they could never resist my charm."

"I'm sure."

Behind them, Merlin shared a look with Gwen. They hid their grins behind their hands.

Bedworth then turned and bowed to the woman standing beside Uther.

"And this vision of loveliness must be the Lady Morgana. You have only grown more beautiful, my dear."

Morgana curtsied, though her smile grew somewhat fixed as he winked at her.

"I have someone here I know you're dying to see." Bedworth turned and suddenly pushed a young man forward. "My son, Thaniel."

Morgana little by little began to lift her head, prepared to have to all the embarrassment of having to be pleasant to the dull witted, crusty faced, bulky teenager she remembered, whose face had been pitted with spot scars. She slowly inched her eyes away from the floor, where Bedworth's beard trailed and tried not to think that she might have to marry his troll of a son. Tried not to imagine having to look at such a face above her every night.

"My lady?"

She looked up.

And forgot how to breathe.

The young man standing in front of her was tall, taller than she remembered, so that she could rest her head neatly into the crook of his neck. His face was strongly defined, with a Roman nose and razor sharp cheekbones. His skin was smooth and unblemished; a dark shadow of stubble graced his jaw. His black hair, still damp from the rain outside curled slightly.

Arthur's eyes narrowed as Morgana casually wet her lips.

"My lord."

"I thought you said he was hideous?" Whispered Merlin. "A face only a mother could love, you said."

"Shut up, Merlin," the prince warned, even as his father warmly shook the younger man's hand.

"Thaniel." Uther smiled. "I hardly recognise you."

Thaniel bowed gracefully, and Morgana couldn't help but watch the play of his muscles beneath his tunic shirt that was still damp from the rain, despite his cloak.

"It has been five years, sire. I had somewhat of a growth spurt."

"Well, you've become a fine young man," said Uther approvingly and Morgana couldn't help but blush as Uther looked between the pair of them.

He turned finally to the dumpy young woman beside Bedworth, who was struggling somewhat impatiently to free herself of her rain sodden cloak.

"Bridget. You're looking well."

Bridget nodded distantly in recognition, finally wrestled her cloak off, tossed it to Merlin and then crushed Morgana in a hug.

"Darling! How are you?"

"Well, thank you." Morgana smiled even as she tried to get her breath back.

"It's so good to see you again! When Father mentioned we were coming to visit for three weeks I could barely contain myself. We have much to catch up on."

"Yes," interrupted Uther, barely managing to suppress a smile at her enthusiasm. "But perhaps you might like to talk about it over dinner? I'm sure you're hungry after your journey."

"An excellent plan!" Cried Bedworth, slapping Uther on the back. The king merely smiled long-sufferingly and began to head towards the Great Hall.

"My lady?" Thaniel held out his arm. "May I escort you to dinner?"

"Thank you, my lord." She tucked her slim fingers in the crook of his elbow, but not before turning back and blowing Arthur a kiss, a smirk very much in place.

"Well, your plan backfired spectacularly," observed Bridget, as she took Arthur's arm.

"What plan?" Said Arthur innocently.

"I read the letter Uther sent father. And your addition." Bridget smoothed down the thick wavy auburn hair she'd inherited from her father with her free hand. "I can tell your handwriting a mile off- you didn't disguise it very well."

Arthur scowled. "She's so..."

"Infuriating?" Offered Bridget. "Exasperating? Annoying? Perfect?"

"Perfect," Arthur nodded absently. Then he realised what he'd said and scowled at the woman beside him. "Bridget," he warned. "Morgana is hardly perfect. Infact, she's as far from perfect as it gets. She's rude, arrogant, self absorbed-"

"Listing your character traits again Arthur?" Morgana called and turned her head. "You missed out petty and stupid."

Arthur glowered, and opened his mouth to retort but Thaniel had already engaged her in conversation.

"Sexual tension. Knife. That's all I'm saying," Bridget murmured.

Following behind them Gwen hid a smile behind her hand.

"I like her," said Merlin whispered quietly to the servant girl. "She's …" He paused thoughtfully, searching for the right word.

"Got balls?" Offered Arthur. "Remember Merlin- whispering means being quiet so others don't hear you."

"Remember Arthur-thinking before you speak means being less of a prat." Bridget smacked the prince on the arm. "And I prefer to think of myself as gutsy, thank you very much."

His reply was cut off by the sudden commotion as the front of the group entered the Great Hall.

Somebody screamed.

Merlin and Arthur shared a look before pushing through the group of nobles, servants and guards to get to the front. Bridget grabbed Gwen's hand and tugged her along.

"Come on," she said. "Can't let the men have all the fun."

Gwen was helpless to do anything but let herself be led inside the Great Hall.

Inside the courtiers stood, backs against the walls, even as several knights clustered around the King. There was something in the middle of the stone floor but Bridget couldn't see what.

"What's going on here?" Uther asked.

"We found her, floating at the edge of the lake," said one of the knights. Merlin felt a flicker of recognition as he looked at the weary, rain soaked man. He finally placed him - Sir Leon.

"What's happened?" Asked Bridget, as she and Gwen finally made it to the front.

Morgana moved wordlessly to the side and pointed.

The woman lying flat on her back in the middle of the Great Hall was soaked, her thin brown cotton dress sticking to her bruised body, her lank blonde hair plastered to her waxy white face. Morgana couldn't help but notice that the dead woman's lips were tinged a pale blue grey.

The exact shade of Arthur's eyes.

"Get them out of here," Uther waved to his knights, who began to escort out the horrified courtiers. "Why on earth did you bring her in here?"

"I'm sorry my lord, we didn't think…"

"No you didn't, that's the problem." Uther pinched the bridge of his nose. "I assume someone has summoned Gaius?"

"Yes, my lord. He's on his way."

A gloved hand touched Morgana's elbow. "My ladies? Would you come with me please?"

"I'm the King's ward," she replied stubbornly. "I'm going nowhere."

"Me neither," said Bridget, frowning at the blonde haired, blue eyed knight. "Sir whoever-you-are."

"Sir Bedivere, my lady."

"Well, Sir Bedivere. I choose when I leave and with whom."

The knight wavered, before looking to Uther. The King opened his mouth even as Bridget crossed her arms. He sighed and nodded.

"Let them be."

Morgana shared a small smile of victory with her friend, which soon dimmed when she glanced back down at the corpse.

She had been pretty in life, her face a pale slice of new moon, now death bloated, the skin goosepricked and rough. Her awful, empty eyes started blankly up at the beamed roof, even as her lips were curved into a smile that was practically obscene.

There was the sound of shuffling footsteps and then Gaius arrived as the last of the courtiers left. The physician closed the great double doors behind him.

"Gaius," Uther greeted solemnly. "I'm afraid we're in need of your skills. With the dead rather than the living though this time. Can you tell what happened to her?"

Gaius knelt down beside the body and began to examine her. His hands skated lightly over her head even as he muttered his findings to himself. "Foam from the nostrils and mouth…" he wiped some away and then pressed down lightly on her chest. More of the pink tinged foam appeared. "Over inflated lungs, haemorrhaging in the ears…some head trauma but that could be due to buffeting in the water." The physician removed his hands and looked at the king.

"She drowned, sire. Of course, I would have to conduct a proper post-mortem to establish that exactly, but I am quiet certain that is the case. "

Uther nodded. "An accident?"

Gaius frowned and discreetly lifted up the material of the corpse's high necked dress. He pulled it back slightly and peered underneath. "There are a ring of dark bruises round her neck and shoulders where someone held her down."

He smoothed the top of her dress back again and sighed.

"This was murder."

* * *

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	2. Cross Against A Kiss

**Title:** Drowning In You

**Rating:** T

**Pairing: **Arthur/Morgana.

**Summary:** Someone is drowning young women in Camelot. With no motive and no suspects, Morgana must work out who the murderer is before she becomes the next victim…

* * *

There was a ripple of disquiet around the remaining group.

Uther's face was grim. "Let me know your findings as soon as possible. For now, _no-one_ is to go anywhere near the lake." His eyes darted across the faces of his son and his ward, their servants and his guests. "Am I understood?"

They nodded quickly.

He turned back to Lord Bedworth. "I'm sorry that you've had such a poor start to your arrival here. Come, we shall dine in my personal chambers tonight."

Bedworth nodded. Morgana couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the man, who had somewhere in the last few moments lost some of his jollity. He even looked a little deflated. Still, he put on his best face and smiled, though the twinkle in his eye was somewhat dimmed.

"Of course, of course. Thaniel?"

Thaniel's face had completely shuttered, his expression inscrutable as he gazed at the dead woman pooling water on the floor.

"Coming, Father." He turned to walk after the two older men but stopped when Morgana still hadn't moved. "My lady?"

Morgana tore her gaze away from the young woman, (who could have been no older than Morgana herself) only once Gaius had closed the blank eyes. She sighed and took Thaniel's proffered arm.

But not before spotting the gold wedding band still glittering on the dead woman's left hand.

* * *

Dinner began quietly- everyone was too preoccupied with thinking about the young woman in the hall to entertain much conversation. Morgana fiddled with her goblet uneasily, wondering how to break through the subdued air that had overtaken them.

But then Thaniel complimented her on her dress (a new one Gwen had made up for her of midnight blue silk, studded with tiny seed pearls around the sweeping neckline) before lightly mentioning her home and she was soon swept away in the memories of her old life.

"And do you remember," laughed Bridget, "when you almost fell off the cliff at Eastleigh chasing after your dolly?"

"It was my favourite one. Mother had given it to me as a Christmas present." Morgana pouted and speared another slice of honeyed parsnip. "It wasn't very nice of you to throw it off the cliff edge, Thaniel."

The young man had the decency to look rather sheepish. "I was only six at the time. And I'm sure you deserved it."

"She normally does," Arthur said evenly.

Morgana kicked him beneath the table. The prince gritted his teeth and tried not to wince.

"You cried for three days straight," Bridget reminded her. "And then Father bought you a pony and you forgot all about it."

"I remember- little Shetland creature wasn't it? Piebald." At the other end of the table Lord Bedworth chuckled. "Feisty thing. Nearly took my hand off when we tried to feed it."

"Morgana or the horse?"

Arthur received another kick. Morgana merely smiled sweetly when he glared at her.

"I expect you miss your home, eh?" Said Bedworth, mopping up the last of the gravy on his plate with a chunk of bread. "Though the vassal Uther put in place seems to be running the place well. No doubt when you marry you'll return there."

"Yes, my lord." Morgana nodded, fingers tightening over her fork at the mention of marriage. "I will take up what was my mother's position as the Lady of the House of Gorlois."

"Would be better if you married a fellow from a neighbouring dukedom, then eh?" Said Bedworth pointedly, his eyes darting between Thaniel and Morgana.

Uther cleared his throat in the awkward silence that followed. "Well, we'll hold a feast in your honour in a few days time, you understand, when the shock of the incident in the Hall has died down somewhat."

Bridget clapped her hands in excitement, smearing cream on her sleeves as dessert was placed in front of them. She didn't seem to notice.

"Oh, how exciting. Will there be music and dancing?"

Uther nodded. "If you wish it."

"Oh yes please- there's never dancing at home anymore."

Bedworth rolled his eyes at his daughter's enthusiasm and waved his spoon loaded with thick apple pie in the air. "Bridget, the reason there is no more dancing is because you've exhausted our musicians. The poor men wore away their fingers with your incessant requests for jigs. I had to stop it before they collapsed under the nervous strain."

Bridget sniffed delicately and stabbed her spoon in the pastry crust. "One would have thought they would have been happy to acquiesce to my requests. They are musicians after all. What else do they do all day if not play?"

"May I request your hand for the first dance then, my lady?" Thaniel leaned in closer to Morgana. "That is, if the Prince doesn't mind?"

"Why on earth should he mind?" said Morgana casually. "Arthur dances as little as he possibly can, and certainly never with me."

"Really?" said Bridget, sympathetically. "Is it because you can't?" She lowered her voice. "Do you have _a_ _condition_?"

"Yes," replied Arthur dryly. "It's called 'I hate dancing' and it strikes me down very suddenly just before public events."

Bridget tutted. "I don't understand how anyone can hate dancing." She swept her arms out wide, a trail of cream splattering out in an arc. "It's so invigorating."

Arthur wiped at the blobs of cream that now dotted his jacket with his fingers. "Clearly."

Morgana smiled into her goblet.

* * *

As the group began to retire for the evening and Merlin showed Thaniel and Lord Bedworth to their rooms, Gwen still hovered anxiously.

"Would you like me to show you to your room, Lady Bridget?"

Morgana shook her head kindly. "No, that's all right, Gwen. Lady Bridget and I have a few things to discuss in my room."

"As you wish." Gwen bobbed a curtsey and said goodnight.

"Does that happen regularly here?" Bridget asked as they walked back to Morgana's chambers. "Dead bodies in the hall and all? Must be awfully inconvenient."

"We have lots of things attack Camelot regularly, monsters and magical beasts." She shivered. "But nothing like this before."

"Sorry," said Bridget as Morgana pushed open her room door. "I've brought you down again. Don't worry though. I have just the thing to take your mind off things."

Bridget pulled her hands from behind her back and produced two bottles of wine.

"Bri! You sneaky thing." Morgana's smile fell. "But we don't have any glasses."

Bridget turned around and when she turned back she was holding two goblets. "Do not ask me where I was keeping those."

Morgana pulled a face. "I'm not sure I want to drink from them now."

"Suit yourself." The plump young woman sank down onto the bed, her eyes bright. She took a sip of her wine. "So tell me all the gossip in Camelot."

* * *

"And then!" Morgana paused to catch her breath, tears running down her face she was laughing so hard. "Then he says 'Destiny, my love. Destiny and chicken!"

Bridget almost choked on her wine and clutched her ribs, giggles shaking her frame. "Ow! Morgana, stop! My sides are hurting."

There was a sudden knock at the door.

"Who is it?" Bridget called cheerily.

"Arthur."

"Without chicken?"

The two women caught each other's eyes and burst out laughing again, even as Morgana stumbled off the bed and pulled open the door.

Arthur looked from one woman to the other and frowned. "Have you two been drinking?"

"No," said Bridget merrily, shifting the empty bottles under the bedclothes. "What a thing to suggest!"

She hiccupped.

Morgana giggled and grabbed at the door to keep herself upright. "Was- was there something you wanted?"

"No," said Arthur, a smile twitching at his lips. "I just wanted to check you were all right. The body in the hall and all that."

"I'm fine- we're both fine aren't we, Bri?"

Bridget nodded enthusiastically. "Of course!" Her hand that was holding her up slipped and she fell backwards on the bed covers. "I'm all right!" she called loudly. "Don't panic."

"Right." Arthur hid his smile. "You know, you're going to have a terrible headache in the morning."

"No I'm not," said Morgana haughtily. "Because I haven't been drinking."

"Morgana, you're drunk."

"Am not."

"Then why are you holding onto the door?"

"I am not. See?" She let go. And instantly fell forwards.

Two strong arms caught her and she suddenly found herself being held against Arthur's chest. Arthur's very flat, very muscled chest. She could feel the heat radiating from him through the thin material of his shirt. Unconsciously her fingers curled into the silk.

"So maybe I am a little," she conceded, her head spinning slightly. Had he always smelt this good?

"Just kiss her, you fool!" Bridget had managed to prop herself up again.

Arthur cleared his throat and hurriedly leaned Morgana up against the doorjamb again. "Well as long as you're all right. Goodnight."

He almost fled down the corridor. Morgana closed the door and Bridget pouted.

"Sorry- I didn't mean to make him run away."

"I didn't want him to kiss me anyway," said Morgana pointedly, flopping down on the bed beside her friend. "You're evil."

"Just a bit," Bridget agreed easily. Her voice turned teasing. "You know, if you don't want Arthur, who do you want?"

"No-one!" Morgana protested. "I'm quite happy on my own."

"Right."

"I am, honestly! I've got you and Gwen and a comfortable life here." She pulled out another bottle of wine from under the bed. "And alcohol of course."

"Of course."

The girls burst into giggles again.

Bridget propped herself up on an elbow, and raised an eyebrow. "So if Arthur had kissed you, you would have pushed him away and told him where to go."

"Of course."

"Of course."

Morgana caught Bridget's eye, blushed and shoved her friend. Bridget fell backwards again, giggling.

Morgana was helpless to do anything but join her.

* * *

"My lady? You need to get up."

Morgana blearily cracked open one eye. "What time is it?"

"Past noon."

Morgana let loose a string of words that turned Gwen's cheeks red.

"Sorry, Gwen," she muttered. "But you shouldn't have let me sleep so late. Did Uther ask where I was at lunch?"

"I told him you weren't feeling well."

She snorted. "And what did His Smugness say?"

"The Prince didn't say anything," said Gwen mildly, filling a bowl with hot water.

"Really?"

"He just looked rather self-satisfied. And then gave me this." She held up a tiny bottle full of red liquid. "He said it would help."

Morgana pulled the stopper out of the bottle, sniffed, gagged and put it back in. "I think he's trying to poison me. Did he say what was in it?"

"He said you don't want to know."

Morgana grimaced.

"He did say it would help."

"Fine." Morgana sighed and swallowed it in one go. Her face screwed up. "I am never getting drunk again if it means I have to drink that." She squirmed and then reached for the glass of milk Gwen had brought in. "Have you seen Lady Bridget?"

"Yes, she went to watch the knights training in the practice ring."

Morgana rubbed her forehead and groaned. "Did she look like I feel?"

Gwen came over with a washcloth, her voice only mildly disapproving. "No, my lady. She looked like she was enjoying herself."

Morgana rolled her eyes and pressed the warm cloth to her head. "I'm sure she was. Sir Bedivere was probably shirtless."

"Morgana!" Gwen was blushing once more.

Morgana brightened slightly. "What? I have eyes. And he is very pretty." She shared a smile with Gwen then turned and eyed her wardrobe.

"Now, which dress makes me look the least ill?"

* * *

Her head was still a little tender but Arthur's potion had done the trick and by evening she felt more or less human once again.

"My lady," said Thaniel, bowing in greeting. "Your maid said you weren't well this morning. I hope you're feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Good. You were missed at lunch." Thaniel smiled kindly and Morgana couldn't help the slight rise of colour in her cheeks. "I was wondering, my lady-"

"Morgana, please."

"Morgana," Thaniel smiled. "I was wondering then, in that case, if you'd care to go riding with me tomorrow. I hear you are a proficient horsewoman."

Morgana smiled at the compliment. "Of course. I'd be delighted."

"Excellent, I-"

"Morgana! There you are." Bridget wandered over and shooed her brother away. "I haven't seen you all day." She lowered her voice. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than this morning. How on earth did you make it out of bed?"

"Practice." Bridget winked and hooked her arm through Morgana's, drawing her over to a group of chairs lining the walls. "You forget I grew up with five older brothers. I had to make life bearable somehow."

Morgana smiled. "How was Sir Bedivere?"

"Deliciously half naked. Am I appalling you?"

"No," laughed Morgana. "But you did scandalize Gwen. I think she thinks you're a bad influence."

Bridget beamed. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said about me."

The musicians suddenly struck up the strains of a dance.

"I had nothing to do with it," said Bridget innocently, as Morgana turned to her with a questioning look and Thaniel wandered back over.

"Morgana. Would you care to dance?"

She shook her head regretfully. "I'm still not feeling myself. Forgive me, perhaps another time?"

"Of course." He turned to Bridget. "Come on then little sister. Let's go and dance."

Bridget pulled a face. "But I don't want to dance with you." The musicians began a jig. "Oh all right." She practically pulled him onto the dance floor.

Morgana felt someone sit down next to her. "Not dancing, Arthur?"

"Clearly." The prince crossed his ankles and leaned back lazily in his chair. "Though I could ask you the same question. It's not like you to refuse an invitation to dance."

She ignored the comment. "Why do you look like a wet kitten?"

Arthur frowned and ran his fingers through his wet hair, messing it up into little spikes and tufts. "I've been outside. It's what happens when it rains."

She rolled her eyes at his dry reply. "Doing what exactly?"

"Receiving the reports from the outriders that Father sent out yesterday about the woman in the hall. Gaius did the post-mortem this morning and he was right- she had been drowned."

"Has there been any information on who she might be?"

"No news yet, but several knights who've ridden to the outlying villages have yet to return because of the heavy rain. Perhaps we'll hear then."

There was a comfortable pause as they watched the dancers swirl by. Bridget gave them a little wave as she sailed past.

"Thank you, by the way," said Morgana eventually. "For the concoction you gave Gwen."

Arthur shrugged. "You're welcome."

Morgana licked her lips and tried not to fiddle with the folds of her skirt. "About what Bridget said-"

"Don't worry about it," he interrupted. "I wouldn't have done it. I would never take advantage of an intoxicated woman."

"And if I hadn't been intoxicated?"

Arthur gave her a strange look. "Morgana, don't worry, your honour will always remain intact around me. I wouldn't kiss you if you were the last person on earth."

Sir Leon came up behind him just then. "Sire, I'm afraid your presence is required in the outer courtyard." He bowed to Morgana. "I apologise, my lady. I will return him to you as soon as possible."

"Don't bother," said Morgana flatly. "I doubt I'll notice he's even gone."

What might have been hurt flashed across Arthur's face momentarily, but his cool mask was soon back in place. He bowed shortly and then followed Leon out of the minor hall just as the jig finished.

Bridget flopped down beside her in Arthur's empty seat. "Oh dear," she said softly, seeing her friend's face. "What has his Royal Pratness done now?"

"Nothing," Morgana replied flatly, swallowing past the lump in her throat. "And he never will. That's the problem."

"Morgana-"

She shook her head as Thaniel returned from the dance floor. "I've changed my mind. I would like to dance."

"Excellent." He smiled and took her hand as the musicians began another tune.

Bridget watched them, frowning.

* * *

"I believe I have to admit you may have won."

Morgana patted her horse's neck as a stable hand hurried forward to take the reigns. "Of course," she laughed easily. "I always win."

"At everything?" Thaniel raised an eyebrow, interest flashing across his face. "Will you let no man best you?"

Morgana smirked. "That almost sounds like a challenge, my lord."

"And if it were?"

She licked her lips, enjoying the flirtation. "Then I would accept."

"Then I look forward to being the one to best you, my lady." Thaniel winked and let his horse be led over to the far corner of the courtyard.

"We'll see," she murmured to herself. "No man has bested me. Or bedded me yet," she eyed his lithe athletic form as he dismounted from the horse onto the cobbles, "and I doubt you will be the man to do it. But we shall see."

Her smile left when she noticed the weeping man emerging from the castle and accompanying Gaius down the steps. Morgana dismounted and hurried over.

"Gaius?"

The older man shook his head. "Not now, my lady."

She continued up the steps in the entrance hall and almost bumped into a grave looking Arthur. "What's going on? Who was that man?"

"Ben Griffin. The woman in the hall was his wife. Emily. They'd been married a week."

Morgana shivered. "How awful."

A servant came to take off her riding cloak, and Arthur leaned against one of the marble pillars lining the room, arms folded. "How was your ride?"

"Lovely thank you," she breezed easily. "It was nice to go riding with a real man for once."

The arrival of Merlin cut off any retort Arthur may have made. "King Uther requests your presence in the Council chambers immediately."

* * *

Uther frowned and flexed his fingers across the tabletop. "Did she have any enemies? Anyone who might have wanted to kill her? Or hurt him?"

"No," replied Sir Leon. "According to her husband, Emily was very sweet, very kind. She was the village beauty but he didn't know any man who could have wanted to kill her."

"Could her husband have done it?" asked Morgana.

"It's unlikely," said Gaius. "His right hand has been crippled from birth. He would've had a hard time holding anyone under the water."

"But he _could_ have done it?" she insisted.

"Possibly," the physician conceded. "If he was very determined. Or had help."

"It could have been a woman who killed her," Arthur supplied. "Perhaps they were jealous of her, or saw her as a love rival." He shot Morgana a look. "You know how women are."

"I doubt they'd be fighting over a man," Morgana scoffed. "Women have more sense."

"A pity you never use it then," Arthur snapped.

Morgana rolled her eyes. "It'd be wasted on your tiny mind."

"Well," said Uther pointedly, "if I may cut in at this point?"

Both Arthur and Morgana had the sense to back down, but still shot each other glares.

"For all our speculation, we still have nothing solid for a motive. You've told Griffin not to go anywhere I suppose?"

Sir Gawain nodded. "Yes Sire, he's staying at the _Golden Boar_ in the town. I've told him that if he thinks of anything at all he is to tell me at once."

"Good." The bells began to chime for the midday meal and Uther stood. "You're all dismissed." He turned to Arthur and Morgana. "You two will remain behind."

He managed to reign in his temper until the last knight had left and shut the doors behind him.

"I don't know what the matter is between you two, and I don't particularly care, but you will do it in your own time," Uther exploded. "I will not have you bickering in front of the whole court. Camelot is supposed to represent a unified whole. We are a symbol to the people of unity and stability." He thumped the arm of his chair. "But you two seem hell bent on destroying that image with your snide remarks. You're both adults. It's time you stopped squabbling like children."

Morgana bowed her head. "Sorry, sire," she mumbled. She felt all of ten years old again.

"Sorry, Father. It won't happen again."

"It better not," said Uther quietly. He sighed. "You may leave."

* * *

"The last time he told us off like that we were children, do you remember?" said Morgana tentatively, as they walked down the corridor outside of the council chambers. "We sneaked into all of the guest bedrooms and put jam in the sheets."

Arthur smiled fondly. "Father was so mad he banished us to our rooms for a whole fortnight. And we weren't allowed any dessert for a month."

"And that time we put frogs in the water jugs. They infested the castle and the servants couldn't get rid of them for weeks."

"If I remember rightly, you put the frogs in the water jugs. I just caught them for you." He grimaced at the memory. "There was frogspawn everywhere."

"We used to have fun together, didn't we?" said Morgana, her smile fading. "What happened to us?"

"We grew up."

They continued to walk in silence until they came to the crossroads in the system of corridors. Arthur caught her hand as she turned to go.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Morgana's eyebrow rose. "For what?"

He kissed her.

Right there, in the middle of the hallway where anyone could see. His lips pressed wonderfully against hers. It was brief and chaste, but she suddenly wondered what it would be like to run her fingers through his hair.

"Consider that an apology for what I said yesterday. You're not the last person on earth that I'd kiss." The prince smirked. "I'd rather kiss you than Merlin."

Morgana rolled her eyes but a small smile was playing on her lips. "Thanks. I feel so much better now."

"Everyone feels better after they kiss me."

Morgana laughed. "Don't flatter yourself highness."

She only realised they were still holding hands when Arthur squeezed her fingers and then let go. She felt a strange sense of loss.

"I'd better go. Lady Bridget is probably terrorizing my knights again. That woman's a menace."

"You're just jealous she's only interested in your men, and not you."

"Well obviously," Arthur joked. "It shows poor judgement on her half."

"It shows sense if you ask me. Only the misguided fall for you."

"You shouldn't insult yourself, Morgana," called Arthur as he began to walk off. "Every woman falls for me eventually."

Morgana shook her head, ignored the tingling in her lips and walked back to her rooms, finding her maid airing the sheets.

"Hello," said Morgana cheerily, as her Gwen raised an eyebrow.

"You're in high spirits."

"I am, I feel very happy." She even managed a small spin when a thought struck her. "In fact, Gwen, why don't you have the afternoon off?"

"I couldn't, my lady."

"Yes you could. I can finish your chores for you." Morgana smirked. "And I'm sure you'd prefer to spend time with Merlin than air my sheets."

Gwen blushed prettily.

"Go on," and she shooed her out of the door.

Sometime later, as Morgana swept the floor, she heard something clatter against the stone and looked down just in time to see one of her pearl earrings roll under the bed.

"Damn." She knelt down and stretched her arm under, feeling around for her earring, but it had rolled further than she thought. She would have to crawl under.

"This takes me back," she muttered as she shimmied under, her fingers stretching out to pick up her earring. She was just about to inch herself back on her knees and elbows when there was a loud grating noise beneath her. One of the floor stones had moved. A childhood memory suddenly returned full force and she pushed at the slab, reaching into the dark hole it revealed. They had hidden something here…something important…

There was a knock at the door, and then it was pushed open as someone came in.

"I swear Arthur is so rude sometimes. He told me I was distracting his knights and had me escorted from the training grounds…" Bridget paused and took in the scene, eyeing Morgana who was still half out and half under the bed. "Aren't you a little old to be playing hide and seek?"

Morgana shuffled out from under the bed, her earring in one hand, a very old, very dusty leather book clutched to her chest with the other.

"Morgana!" said Bridget, feigning shock. "How scandalous! I didn't realise you were the type to keep dirty books under your bed." She leaned forward eagerly. "Has it got pictures?"

Morgana rolled her eyes. "You're terrible. And yes it has got pictures. But it's not the type of book you think it is." She flicked through the page until she found the illustration she was looking for.

"Morgana. What on earth is that?"

"That's what killed Emily Griffin."

* * *

**Please Read and Review! **

**It's April Fools Day. The day of the fool. And as there can be nothing so foolish (or beautiful) as shipping a doomed romance - we know we're going to get our hearts broken and yet we cannot do anything but give them anyway - I thought I would treat us all to another slice of Ar/Mor.**

**Hope you liked it.**


	3. Murderous Misunderstandings

**Title:** Drowning In You

**Rating:** T

**Pairing: **Arthur/Morgana.

**Summary:** Someone is drowning young women in Camelot. With no motive and no suspects, Morgana must work out who the murderer is before she becomes the next victim…

* * *

"It's a Fossegrim. A water sprite. They lure young women and children down to lakes and then they drown them."

Morgana traced a finger over the illustration in the text - multiple shades of blue sketching the image of a young woman, very beautiful and very dead, floating in the middle of a lake. Beside her there was a ripple of concentric circles in the glassy still water where the demon had been, but no picture of the Fossegrim itself.

Bridget raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "A water sprite, Morgana?"

"Don't look at me like that. We have a drowned woman, and no witnesses, suspects or motive. It makes sense."

"It makes no sense," Bridget retorted. "So we have no idea who killed that poor woman, supposing her husband probably didn't. It doesn't suddenly mean that a mythical water demon killed her instead."

"You know better than anyone that mythical beings exist."

Bridget pursed her lips and shot Morgana a nasty look. "My family history has nothing to do with this. And you promised you'd never mention it."

"Sorry," said Morgana, genuinely apologetic. "But you have to admit a Fossegrim is a possibility."

"An extremely remote one." Bridget closed the book, and ran her hand over the leather bindings. "Tell me you're not planning on notifying Uther about this."

Morgana shook her head. "No. if you don't believe me, Uther certainly never will."

"Thank goodness you haven't gone completely mad."

"So what do we do?"

"We do nothing." Bridget fixed Morgana with a stern look and handed the book back to her firmly. "Not until you can prove your theory. Hopefully by that time the real murderer will have been found, and you can stop trying to use a book of folktales to pin blame on something that doesn't exist."

"Fine, don't believe me. I still know I'm right."

Bridget merely shook her head in exasperation as Morgana knelt back down to the floor to return the book under the bed into its hiding place. "Wherever did you get it from?"

"The Manuscript Archive, almost... almost thirteen years ago. Arthur and I snuck it out. I remember we carried it up here and looked through it." She pushed the stone back and dropped the book into the gap. There was a soft clang as it hit the spoon in there, knocking it against the stone. "Then my nursemaid came in and we had to hide it."

"Speaking of Arthur, have you two patched up your differences yet?"

Morgana felt the prickle of a blush creeping up her cheeks and was glad she was under the bed so Bridget couldn't see. Her friend wouldn't let her live it down. "Yes," she said mildly. "We're fine."

"Oh good," said Bridget brightly. "Then you won't mind that you two will be leading the dancing at the Feast on Saturday."

Morgana almost banged her head on the wooden frame shimmying out of her position. "You've done what?"

Bridget merely smiled innocently. "Put you two as leading the dancing at the Welcome Feast. Remember, Uther said he'd have one for my father, Thaniel and me? It's in two days time."

"But why are you in charge?"

"Because I like organising things, and you know Uther hates sorting out balls, feasts and social occasions in general." Bridget arched an eyebrow. "You seemed to have forgotten all about it, so I offered to do it."

"But to organise your own welcome feast?"

Bridget shrugged and spread her hands. "At least this way everything will be perfect and I'll be able to enjoy it."

"Which means there's going to be plenty of dancing doesn't there?"

"You know me too well."

Morgana smirked. "Arthur won't like it."

"Tough." Bridget flopped back on the bed, her voice flat and uncompromising. "Not only am I organising it, I'm one of the guests of honour. Your prince has to do what I tell him."

"Firstly he's not my prince," Morgana retorted, rolling her eyes. "And secondly, I think you've managed to grow bossier than you were when you were little."

"I've gone power mad," Bridget agreed deadpan. "But then, if you could order Arthur round you wouldn't hesitate for a moment. Just imagine him in chains, bent over scrubbing your floor, shirtless, his ars-"

"Bri- don't you dare finish that sentence. It's incredibly disturbing."

"So why are you blushing?"

Morgana hit her with her pillow.

* * *

"Gwen?"

There was no response from her maid, but then Morgana hadn't been expecting one. She'd been in a daydream all evening ever since returning from her day with Merlin, and Morgana had barely managed to get anything sensible out of her.

It was only as Gwen brushed her unravelled hair for the thirtieth time that Morgana realised her maid's mind was somewhere else completely. Her fingers reached up behind her and closed around the silver brush handle.

Gwen started. "My lady?"

"Gwen, you need to stop brushing my hair otherwise I'm not going to have any left soon."

"I'm so sorry," she blushed but Morgana waved away her apologies and shooed her out of the room, finishing up her toilette for herself. She'd just blown out the candle and settled into bed, when there was a knock at the door. The fleeting thought that perhaps it was Arthur made her stomach twist in nervous anticipation. Pulling on her most attractive wrap, she checked her hair and then nonchalantly opened the door.

"Oh. Merlin."

The poor boy clearly sensed her disappointment and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly with one hand, thrusting a small jar at her with the other. "Sorry, my lady. I forgot to give you your sleeping draught."

Morgana smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, I'd forgotten too." She uncorked the bottle and swallowed the contents in one go, her nose wrinkling.

As always, it tasted like old laundry.

She tried to distract herself from the horrible flavour that lingered in her mouth. "Did you have a nice time with Gwen today?"

Merlin blushed and nodded.

"Good, I'm glad."

She handed him the vial back but something made her pause. "Merlin, do you believe in water sprites?"

"Water sprites, my lady?"

She suddenly felt foolish but carried on. "Yes, naiads, mermaids, nixies that sort of thing."

Merlin hesitated and fiddled with the glass as if debating whether to tell her something or not. He suddenly seemed to come to a firm decision.

"I think it would be silly not to believe in them. After all the things that have attacked Camelot? Yes. I believe." He paused. "Why do you ask?"

She contemplated telling him about the book under her bed. About her suspicions.

Bridget's voice echoed through her memory.

She sighed. "No reason Merlin, I was just curious."

He nodded slowly, opened his mouth to say something, hesitated and then wished her goodnight before hurrying away down the corridor.

Morgana closed the door and then leaned heavily against it, her head in her hands.

_A water sprite, Morgana? __It makes no sense._

Maybe Bridget was right. Maybe it was ridiculous to think a water demon was the culprit. Perhaps she really was jumping to conclusions.

For the first time in her life, Morgana wished for guidance. Illumination. Some little clue as to what was going on and whether she was right.

With the taste of the potion still on her tongue, she wished for a vision.

* * *

They were having lunch the following morning when the news arrived. Uther looked up from his plate at the sudden knocking on his chamber doors and called out.

"Enter."

Two guards crossed the threshold, one of whom Morgana recognised as Sir Leon, the other- she noted with a small smile- kept glancing at Bridget, and was Sir Bedivere.

"Forgive the intrusion my lord, but you asked to be informed immediately if there was any change with Griffin."

"Well?" Uther prompted, as Leon hesitated.

"Griffin is dead, my lord," Bedivere said frankly. "The landlord of the _Golden Boar_ found him this morning in his room. Hanged himself with his own belt."

Morgana suddenly lost her appetite. She pushed her plate away and reached for her goblet, swallowing a mouthful of wine.

Uther nodded gravely. "Thank you, you may go."

Across the table Bridget's eyes met Morgana's.

"Grief?" Bedworth reasoned.

"Or guilt," Uther frowned darkly. "Though of course we can assume nothing for now. I suggest we all finish our meal and try not to dwell on it."

"If you will excuse me," Morgana rose from the table, her face ashen. "I'm not hungry anymore."

An hour later found her stood on top of the battlements, one hand propping up her chin as she watched the townsfolk below her going about their everyday business. There was sudden movement beside her and Thaniel rested his elbows on the ramparts.

"It's a fine view."

She nodded. "On a fine day you can see the snow on the mountains, and sometimes a glimmer of the sea in the distance."

There was a beat of comfortable silence as they watched the people at the busy marketplace.

Thaniel ran his palm over the rough stone of the battlements. "Forgive me if this sounds presumptuous my lady, but... are you all right?"

"Of course."

"Morgana."

She sighed heavily and turned away from Thaniel's kind face and searching eyes. "No, I'm not." She sighed. "I just...feel helpless. Two people are dead and Uther seemed more interested in finishing his meal than doing something about it."

Thaniel smiled gently. "You care for these people greatly. You will make a fine Queen one day."

"Queen? I'm not going to be Queen," she replied lightly.

"Really?" Thaniel's brows lifted. "You surprise me. I would've thought you'd have wanted to be Queen of Camelot."

"That would mean marrying Arthur," she laughed. "I'm not sure either of us would survive such an arrangement."

"Morgana?" Arthur had stepped out from the door. "There you are, I was worr-" He caught sight of Thaniel and broke off, his mouth turning down ever so slightly at the corners. "My lord."

"Prince Arthur." Thaniel smiled. "Please, join us. Morgana and I were just discussing marriage."

Arthur's face stiffened and the look he shot Morgana was suddenly inscrutable. "I'll leave you to it then," he said flatly.

"No, Arthur I-"

But he had disappeared.

She turned back to Thaniel who stood their smugly. "What on earth possessed you to say that to him?"

He shrugged. "It was the truth."

"Yes, but he's taken it completely the wrong way."

His gaze sharpened, as though he knew all of her secrets suddenly. "And why do you care so much, Morgana? What's your interest in the matter?"

Her mouth shut audibly. "I..." She frowned at him. "I have to go and find him."

But Arthur was nowhere to be found, though she searched the castle thoroughly. His rooms were empty but he hadn't left as Phaeton was still stabled, and none of the stable hands reported seeing the prince. She collared Merlin and questioned him, but he hadn't seen his master since lunchtime. She even tried their old childhood hiding places- in the long gallery behind the suits of armour, in the bread rooms of the kitchens, by the rosemary and fennel in the herb garden.

There was no sign of Arthur.

And Morgana knew if he truly wished not to be found she would never be able to find him.

No matter how much she wanted to.

* * *

Bridget popped her head round Morgana's door sometime later.

"I'm going into town for some decorations for the feast tomorrow. Do you want to come with me? I know you love shopping."

Morgana shook her head and traced the grain of the wood on her vanity table morosely. "No, thank you."

"Are you feeling all right? You look upset?"

"I'm fine."

Bridget pursed her lips worriedly. "You haven't had another argument with Arthur have you? I thought you'd resolved all that?"

"Not an argument. A misunderstanding." Morgana shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"If you're sure," said Bridget slowly. "If you don't want to come, do you mind if I steal Gwen away from you? You're always saying she has excellent taste."

"Yes of course. Go on."

With one last look at her despondent friend, Bridget closed the door behind her.

* * *

"I think this one would suit you best. Morgana?" Gwen held up the beautiful peach sheer satin dress, flecked with tiny diamonds down a trailing sash that would cross under her breasts and flow back behind her.

"I've never seen this gown before." Morgana rubbed the thin material between her fingers. "I'll look like I'm wearing nothing."

"Lady Bridget bought it for you from the merchant at the market yesterday." Gwen smiled. "She said it was a present."

"Uther's going to have a fit if I turn up in this."

Gwen nodded. "Lady Bridget said much the same thing. That's why she bought it."

"Well, anything to antagonise my guardian and please my friend." Morgana took the dress and eyed the plunging neckline. "What's she wearing?"

Gwen flushed dark red and mumbled something about bedsheets and Sir Bedivere.

* * *

As it was, Bridget was simply wearing a dark green backless dress, her auburn hair (for once), brushed sleekly into a chignon and studded with jade hair pins.

"I was expecting bedsheets and strategically placed fig leaves. I'm disappointed," said Morgana as she kissed her cheek in greeting.

Bridget laughed. "Oh, so Gwen told you did she?" She motioned to Sir Bedivere who kept glancing over from the group of knights he was with and eyeing the large expanse of flesh Bridget's dress exposed. "I would have done, but Bedivere put his foot down and said no. Something about not wanting to cause a scandal." She rolled her eyes playfully. "He's such a stick in the mud sometimes."

"Morgana. You're looking particularly lovely this evening." Thaniel had walked over to join them at the entrance to the Great Hall. He turned and frowned at his little sister. "Bridget, you appear to be missing half your dress."

She shot him a look. "It's called fashion, _brother_. It's supposed to look like this."

"Really?" Thaniel ran a hand through his freshly washed black curls, the candlelight catching the tiny drops of water that still clung to it. "I thought you'd fallen out with your seamstress and she was having her revenge."

"Haha. At least I've made an effort."

"I'm sorry. Perhaps I should have sliced the back off my jacket, and then you would have been satisfied."

"Don't be silly," retorted Bridget, eyeing the black jerkin emblazoned with the three silver stars and stag antlers of the House of Dunheny. "Then the crest would have been missing and Father would have had your head, considering he gave it you."

"The hall looks lovely," interjected Morgana desperately, cutting through the squabbling siblings.

Bridget had done a wonderful job, she had to admit. The hall was festooned with brightly dyed banners and ribbons, hundreds of lit candles lined the walls, and the scent of incense rose from gold bowls in the corners of the room. "I thought you said you were only going to buy a few decorations?"

"These _are_ only a few decorations." Bridget pouted. "I wanted to buy velvet cloth to cover all of the chairs, and I thought we could have had a water feature in one of the corners, perhaps with a small cherubic figure on top playing an instrument of some sort." She frowned. "But Father put his foot down."

"A fact that Uther's purse strings will always be grateful for."

Bridget stuck her tongue out at her brother as the musicians started up the opening strains.

Thaniel ignored her and offered his hand to the woman beside him. "Morgana?"

"I can't," she said regretfully. "Your sister's ordered me to dance with Arthur for the opening dance."

Thaniel bowed graciously. "Then I will claim the second."

She curtsied, even as Bridget began to tug her away. "Of course."

It didn't take long for the women to find Arthur. He was standing in front of the throne, beside Lord Bedworth and Uther, both of whom seemed to be slowly going red.

"I think your father's fighting the urge to have a fit," Morgana whispered as they drew closer.

"Not if Uther beats him too it." Bridget grinned. "I told you these dresses would be a hit."

"Lady Morgana, Bridget." Bedworth was turning the colour of his beard, which, it appeared, had been specially curled at the tip for the occasion. "What are you wearing?"

"Or not, as the case may be," Arthur drawled. As Bridget turned to argue with her father, Arthur uncrossed his arms, took Morgana's hand none too gently and led her to the floor.

"Let's get this over with." With a sharp jerk of his head the musicians began to play a soft lulling piece of music, and other couples began to slowly filter into the middle of the room, joining them in gently circling around the room.

The hand Arthur had placed at her waist would, in normal circumstances, have sent a pleasant tingle through her as the heat of his skin seeped through the thin material of her dress.

One glance at his face however, and all thoughts of romance flew from her head.

He would not look at her.

"Are we to dance in silence then?"

A muscle in Arthur's clenched jaw ticked. "What would you like to talk about?" He snapped. "The weather? The party? Your upcoming marriage?"

"Arthur, what Thaniel said yesterday-"

"I don't care," Arthur shrugged. "I don't particularly give a damn about who you marry."

Shocked, she nearly stumbled as they swept round the room. "Pardon?"

"I see you're more dense than usual." He sighed and rolled his eyes patronisingly. "I'll say it slower for you then. Who. You. Marry. Is. None. Of. My. Concern."

She stiffened in his hold, her fingernails making little grooves in his blood red shirt. "But I..." She swallowed, and masked the hurt in coldness. If Arthur found it so easy to admit he didn't care about her, then she certainly wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his indifference pained her. "You're right, it's not. But it doesn't explain why you're so angry."

"Angry?" Arthur snorted. "I'm furious. But before you start it's not because of some misguided sense of jealousy." He laughed humourlessly. "No, it's because you had the gall to accuse me of meddling in your affairs by writing that letter. That I was practically forcing you into an arranged marriage with Thaniel. And then you accept his hand anyway."

She didn't even bother to correct him. "So that's what this is about. Your pride."

"And your shallowness. You didn't want him when you thought he was ugly. Then you find out he's God's gift to womankind and you can't keep away from him."

"I am not shallow," she hissed. "And you're smarting because for once there's someone here who can actually rival you."

"Please. I'm not the one with an inferiority complex. If I remember correctly, you were the one begging me to kiss you two days ago. You want everyone to want you."

The last notes of the music echoed round the hall, and loud applause cut off her reply.

He dropped her hands and bowed stiffly. "At last. Thank goodness that's over."

Morgana regarded him coldly and nodded, even as Thaniel made his way to her side, to claim his dance.

He touched her shoulder gently. "Is everything all right?"

Morgana glanced back over her shoulder, following Arthur as he stalked towards a table laden with goblets of wine. She turned back, and though her smile was large, her eyes were glittering hard diamonds.

"Yes. Everything's just fine."

* * *

The next five hours were the longest of her life. Though Bridget and Gwen made excellent company and she had danced often enough with various different knights, she couldn't help her treacherous eyes returning every time to the glowering figure in the corner, who nursed cup after cup of liquor.

Of course, by the time the bells began to chime the midnight hour and the servants were beginning to clear away, Arthur was slumped near unconscious in a chair.

Morgana sighed, torn between going to her bed and leaving him in his drunken stupidity, and putting her pride aside and helping him to his room.

She reached out for Merlin's arm as he passed her, carrying a tray full of half eaten pastries.

"We need to get him to bed."

Merlin cast a glance in his master's direction and nodded. "I'll be there in two ticks. Just, let me give this to someone."

He hurried off, and Morgana stalked over to Arthur, going on the offensive. She poked his shoulder roughly.

"Arthur."

He glanced up blearily at her and then back down again. "Go away."

"I'm not going anywhere. You need to go to your room." She reached out for his arm, prepared to help him up, but he frowned and tried to push her away.

"No," he slurred. "I don't want _you_."

Morgana swallowed past the brief stinging pain and tried again. "Arthur, we need to get you to bed."

He made a crude gesture. "So you can get into Thaniel's I s'pose."

She slapped him hard, leaving a bright red handprint on his cheek. "Don't _ever_ say anything like that to me again."

"It's true."

Merlin's hand on her arm stopped her from smacking him again. "He's just drunk, my lady. He doesn't mean it."

"I do!" Arthur wobbled dangerously, and Merlin dashed to prop his master up. "I do- you're a lying, manipulative, who-"

Merlin clamped his hand over Arthur's mouth. "Honestly, he doesn't know what he's saying."

"I think he does," said Morgana, her fury suddenly boiling away, until she simply felt very weary. She rubbed her temples. "Merlin, take him to bed. I'll fetch one of the other servants to help you."

Snagging a strong looking serving boy she directed him over to the prince who was now slumped over Merlin, the young man struggling to hold him up.

She waited until the three of them had gone before leaving herself, Gwen following beside her, wringing her hands and wondering what on earth she could do to fix things between Arthur and Morgana.

"Did you have nice time?" said Morgana quietly.

"Yes," Gwen replied tentatively. "Lady Bridget's feast seemed to be a great success."

Morgana managed a lukewarm smile and was about to reply when they heard sudden voices at the end of the corridor.

"-another body sire. Another woman by the lake. We've put her in the physician's room."

The two women shared a look before hurrying down towards the conversation. They came to a halt as Uther and two knights Morgana couldn't place appeared round the corner, walking hurriedly in their direction.

"Morgana!" Uther frowned as he noticed her, "you should be in bed."

She eyed his own hastily donned robes and wondered if that was where he'd been himself, before being rudely roused.

"I'm coming with you." He opened his mouth to reply but she shook her head. "I'm hardly going to be able to sleep now, am I?"

"Fine," he said shortly, striding off in the direction of Gaius' chambers. "Becoming more and more like your father every day," he muttered. She didn't think she was supposed to hear.

"You can go if you like, Gwen," she said kindly, as she turned to follow after them.

The maid shook her head though. "I'm staying with you."

* * *

Gwen probably wished she hadn't come though, thought Morgana, as they gazed at the bloated body now puddling water across Gaius' table and onto the floor, the water creeping in ever wider circles out towards them. Morgana lifted the hem of her dress, and knotted the extra material so it hung above her ankles. Her shoes however, now stained with lake water, were a lost cause.

"Griffin couldn't have done this," observed Gaius, as he shut the woman's eyes and noted the necklace of dark bruises standing out from her pale skin. "She's only been dead a few hours, six at the most." He frowned. "I doubt he did the first one. Sire, this is beginning to look like a serial murderer."

"That information doesn't leave this room," warned Uther. "I don't want a panic among the people." He turned to the two knights who were still stood silently by the door. "Post extra men by the lake, and I expect hourly updates." He crossed his arms and looked back at the corpse, who, like Emily, was also smiling broadly, as though in death she'd been greeting a lover. "And someone find out who she is and why she was out there."

He passed a hand through his greying hair. "I suggest we all try and get some sleep if at all possible."

Morgana shared an incredulous glance with Gwen but nodded anyway.

As it was, there was barely time to change out of their clothes before the dawn bells began to ring out for Sunday Mass.

* * *

"Amen."

Morgana passed a hand across her face and then nudged Gwen sharply as her maid's head began to droop.

Gwen blinked and smothered a yawn. "Sorry, my lady," she whispered, sitting upright in her hard wooden pew.

Fortunately Father Markus finished the service minutes later, and the two tired young women rose from their seats, before trailing after Uther in leading the rest of the congregation out of the large double oak doors.

Just as she crossed the threshold into the cold morning light someone touched her elbow lightly.

"Oh. Arthur."

He looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable, though not bleary eyed as she'd expected. Clearly he'd had a double dose of the hangover potion Morgana had received earlier that week. He ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "Morgana, I need to speak with you."

He glanced at Gwen, who bobbed a nervous curtsy and disappeared into the crowd exiting the church.

Morgana's expression became pinched. "I think you said quite enough last night."

"What I said-"

"Was rude, hurtful and completely unjustified." She crossed her arms and pasted on a sickly smile. "But it you have any more abuse for me, just tell Gwen and she'll be happy to pass on the message."

She turned to go. "Morgana." His hand closed round her wrist. "Please."

"No. I don't want to hear it." Her smile dropped, and he realised how weary she looked. "Leave me alone, Arthur." She shook his hands off her. "Just leave me alone."

* * *

Retreating to the relative safety of her room, she dropped to her knees and smuggled herself under the bed, reaching into her hiding space for _Grimacre's Folktales_. With the book on her lap and her back pressed up against the door against unwelcome visitors, she traced the book cover and then opened the book.

The pages immediately fell open at the passage on Fossegrim.

"Fossegrim," she read aloud, smothering a yawn. "Derived from the Old Norse 'nykr', meaning "river horse." A mystical water sprite. Lives in any source of fresh water. Plays or sings enchanted songs to lure young women and children to drown in lakes or streams, and as such loves music, song and dancing." The words suddenly swam before her, and she wiped her eyes, blinking quickly, the words coming back into focus. "Extremely dangerous to humans, there are only two..." She yawned again. "Two ways to kill a Fossegrim. The first is to call..."

Her head drooped forwards, her chin resting on her chest, as the night's activities finally caught up with her.

_She was surrounded by mist. Cold, shimmering mist, as soft as baby'__s breath and sticky like cobwebs. It clung to her even as she tried to move forwards towards the glimmering light in the distance. _

_Suddenly __three figures appeared in the light before her, two men leading a dark haired woman through a forest, one man holding a sword in his hand, his chainmail glinting in the sunlight and from his golden hair..._

_Arthur, she realized with a shock. And there was Merlin, casting wary glances at the woman in between them._

_The woman, whose face was obscured. _

_She tried desperately to see, but the mist caught at Morgana's ankles. She struggled against it, but it held her fast._

_And suddenly there was a dagger in the woman's hand. A brief sliver of deadly flashing silver._

_She lunged for Arthur's neck. _

"_No!"_

Morgana's eyes snapped open.

* * *

**Please Read and Review! **

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**LOST: Arthur/Morgana fanfiction writers. Where have you all disappeared off to? Has there been some sort of community kidnapping project I've missed out on? Have all the other shippers intimidated you into silence? I haven't read a new story on here in what feels like weeks.**

**So this is a plea, from one writer to another. Sit down at a laptop, pick up a pen, tap at a typewriter, use a chalk and slate, chisel letters in stone, even using smoke signals are acceptable.**

**Just write something. Please. **


	4. Music & Mazes

**Title:** Drowning In You

**Rating:** T

**Pairing: **Arthur/Morgana.

**Summary:** Someone is drowning young women in Camelot. With no motive and no suspects, Morgana must work out who the murderer is before she becomes the next victim…

* * *

"I need you to look at this and tell me what you think."

Gaius took the leather bound book from Morgana's hands silently, a single eyebrow raised in question.

"_Grimacre's Folktales_?" He ran his fingers over the raised leathering of the title, then opened the book to where Morgana had marked it with a scrap of silk and began to read, muttering underneath his breath every so often.

Merlin peered over his shoulder.

"So that's why you wanted to know if I believed in naiads then. Not just curiosity after all." Merlin gestured triumphantly. "I _thought_ it was odd at the time but I didn't want to say anything. Now I know-"

"Merlin." Gaius' glaring gaze fixed on his young apprentice. "Do be quiet. I am trying to read and your blathering is not only irksome, it is interrupting my concentration."

"Sorry. I won't disturb you. Promise."

He began to unnecessarily rearrange a collection of ointments on a nearby side table, knocked over a pot full of jellied bat's livers, slipped in the gunk and reached out for the nearest thing to stop himself falling over.

Unfortunately that was Gaius.

"Merlin!"

"Sorry!"

"You will be," muttered the older man as he picked himself up from the floor, his back smeared thickly with the jelly from the bats. He grimaced, and wiped a handful of goo onto the back of a piece of dirty cloth, hanging from one of the shelves.

"Apprentices," he muttered, as Merlin began to sheepishly tidy up the mess he'd made. "More trouble than they're worth."

He turned back to the book still resting on the table and then up to Morgana who'd been hiding a smile.

"So you think a water sprite killed those two women?"

"I know what I think," she replied. "I want to know what you think."

Gaius sighed and steepled his fingers together seriously. "Claiming that these murders are the work of magical agents is not only a serious accusation, but will not please the King in the slightest. But," he continued, holding up a finger as Morgana began to protest, "that does not mean that it should not be considered." He closed the pages and handed the book back to her. "I think that there is a great possibility that you could be right. On the other hand, there is no conclusive evidence that these women are being killed by water demons."

"I know that." Morgana clutched the book closer. "What do you think I should do?"

"_You_ should nothing," Gaius answered pointedly. "The king's knights are keeping watch over the lake and will report any suspicious activity. Merlin and I will look into the matter, and see if we can discern whether the crimes are magical in nature. Having examined the bodies in detail, at the moment I can see no indications to say that they are." He sighed again. "Then again, I have seen no indications to say that they are not."

"But surely there must be something I can do?"

Gaius shook his head gravely. "I think it would be best if you were to not involve yourself, my lady. If what you think is true, you could be putting yourself in grave danger."

"Of course, I defer to your judgement," Morgana replied innocently.

Gaius fixed her with the look he normally only reserved for Merlin. "I am not Uther, Morgana. Mind that you actually listen to me."

She had the grace to blush.

* * *

"My lady, these arrived for you this afternoon."

Morgana smiled delightedly, put the book down on a side table and reached for the bouquet of blushing hyacinths and crimson and ivory tulips her maid offered her.

"Do you know who they're from?"

"Prince Arthur, with his deepest and most sincere apologies."

Morgana's head rose sharply from where she had been inhaling the sweet scent. She shoved the flowers unceremoniously back into Gwen's arms. "You have them," she commanded imperiously. "I'm allergic."

"But my lady..."

Morgana pressed her hands to her nose, pretended to sneeze violently and then shooed her maid out.

"Take them with you, Gwen. Now. Otherwise I'm going to be sneezing all day. And if anymore flowers arrive from Arthur you can take those home with you too."

Gwen hesitated in the corridor. "And if any arrive which are not from the prince?"

"Then my allergy will most likely disappear if they were to stay," Morgana smiled wryly.

* * *

She managed to avoid seeing Arthur for the rest of the day, taking her supper in her room, (claiming a migraine) and when Monday morning rolled round she quietly slipped out with the dawn bells down the castle corridors. She began to head in the direction of Gaius' quarters, knowing the prince would never think of looking for her in the medical man's chambers. Gaius would let her stay with few questions asked, which was ideal, considering Morgana didn't feel inclined to answer many.

The gentle strains of someone playing a lute very adeptly stopped her as she walked past a corridor. Intrigued, Morgana wandered down the hallway, pausing briefly at the doorway of the music room. It wasn't a room she spent any time in and she cast her gaze curiously over the high ceiling and bare walls, various instruments polished and gleaming on the tables that ringed the room.

And there was Thaniel, sprawled in a chair, a lute in his lap, his long, elegant fingers running up and down the strings, caressing the instrument and coaxing beautiful sounds from it. He looked up at her entrance, but didn't stop playing, changing the tempo down until it was a light springing piece, like the babbling of a brook over smooth pebbles.

"Hello," he said brightly. "Migraine gone?"

"Oh. Yes," she stumbled, remembering her earlier excuse. "I'm feeling much better thank you."

"Good." Thaniel smiled at her in a way that she wasn't sure she was entirely comfortable with. It was a little too warm, a little too friendly. She changed the subject.

"I didn't realise you could play."

"Not many do," he admitted. "Don't tell Bridget, for pity's sake, she'll have me playing every hour of the day so she can dance."

That made Morgana smile. "I swear never to tell your sister." She crossed her heart playfully and then leant against one of the tables. "I don't remember you having much interest in music when we children. That was always Bridget's passion." Morgana paused, and her smile turned knowing. "What was her name?"

"Marianne," he replied wryly. "She and her father were travelling musicians. He sang. She played the lute. I fell in love."

"Ah, the old story." Morgana mocked him gently. "Don't tell me- you asked her for lessons. She taught you how to play chords, you paid her in kisses. You learnt scales; she was quietly and ruthlessly seduced after four lessons."

"That sounds like something Prince Arthur would do."

"Three years ago. She was a flautist. Ruth, I think she was called. I lose track of names after a while," Morgana shrugged. "So how many lessons did you wait before you seduced the innocent Marianne?"

"Five."

"One more than Arthur. You're obviously much more patient. Or he has a better seduction technique."

"Perhaps you'd like to compare them?"

To her credit she didn't blush, though the look he sent her made her toes curl. She swallowed.

"So what happened?"

Thaniel's fingers suddenly snagged on the lute string and the music died. "We came from different social circles. Father would never have let us marry. We both knew it was doomed."

"If you love someone, nothing should stop you being with them."

His eyes burned strangely and Morgana had to look away.

"Thank you."

He stroked the lute gently in the silence that followed and then offered it to her. "Would you like me to teach you?"

"Thank you," she replied graciously, "but you'll remember Mother hired tutors for me when I was little and it was an unmitigated disaster. I have no talent for music."

"Then let me give you a gift." He sat up and reached into the cloth bag at the foot of his chair, before drawing out a long thin parcel, wrapped in green silk and leather. He walked over and proffered it to her.

Quizzically she unwrapped it, peeling away the bindings. A gasp escaped her.

"Do you like it?"

There, beautifully bright and deadly was the dagger from her vision.

"I can't accept this." She shoved it back into the sheath and tried to give it back to him. "Though I'm grateful you thought to buy me a present."

"Please, for your own protection." He shook his head. "No matter the knights that guard this castle nowhere is safe. I would feel better if I knew you had something to defend yourself with. Especially now another woman is dead."

She looked up sharply. "How do you?-"

"Your servants aren't as discreet as you would wish."

Still she hesitated.

He closed his hand over hers, curling her fingers over the sheath. His thumb brushed over her knuckles. "Morgana, I insist. Think of it as an apology for throwing your doll over the cliff all those years ago." He grinned. "Besides I thought you liked shiny, sharp things."

"Yes, when I'm beating Arthur with one." He slowly withdrew his hand from hers and reluctantly she took the dagger, slipping it into the belt at her waist. She nibbled her lip. "Thank you."

Thaniel shrugged and wandered back over to his chair. "You're welcome." He picked up his lute and began to play a different piece, the notes sultry and warm, like a balmy summer's day.

Morgana fiddled with the dagger, wondering how to extricate herself from the situation. "I should go. I'm interrupting you."

"As you wish."

She turned at the doorway. "It was a pleasure to have heard you play. You do have a gift."

His eyes never left hers. "The pleasure was all mine."

She swallowed and left before she did something stupid.

* * *

Later, sat at her dressing table she toyed with the dagger restlessly, wandering what to do with it. Now she had it, perhaps she could prevent the mysterious woman in her vision from claiming it. On the other hand, the very fact that she had it meant that her vision was coming closer and closer to being a reality.

There was a knock at the door.

Heart pounding, she hurriedly slipped the dagger into a drawer, before locking it and pocketing the key.

"Come in."

Gwen wandered in, the smile on her face puckering to a frown. "Morgana? Are you alright? You look a bit flushed." She pressed her palm to Morgana's forehead. "Are you sure you're feeling well?"

Morgana waved her worries away. "I'm fine Gwen, just a little warm. Was there something you wanted?"

"Uther requests your presence in the Great Hall. He's hearing grievances."

"I'll be along in a minute."

She waited until Gwen had left before unlocking the drawer, retrieving the dagger, and shimmying under the bed. Pulling back the stone she dropped it into the hole along with the book, then firmly placed the tile back across.

Now it was secret. Now it was safe.

Surely there it could do no harm.

* * *

"I did it! I killed her sire! Killed her with my own bare hands I did. It was easy, like breaking the neck of a rabbit. Pop! And off it came."

Uther motioned to his knights. "Take him away, and someone see to him." As the raving old man was dragged from the hall, still miming dislocating the vertebrae of small mammals, the king wearily turned to the man stood beside him.

"Gaius?"

The physician shook his head. "The man is a lunatic sire. He's well known in the village. Harmless enough but when he gets ideas in his head." Gaius shrugged helplessly. "Last month there was a wedding and he spent most of the time thinking he was the bride."

Uther sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. "Are we any closer to finding out who the man might be who has committed this crime?"

"Well, I do have some news."

Morgana looked up from where she was scanning over the document of complaints. "Do you know who it is?"

"No." Gaius shook his head. "But the bruises on both bodies are identical. They're all small with deep fingernail indentations indicating the murderer has small hands and long nails. Sire, the person killing these women." He took a deep breath. "I believe it's a woman."

* * *

"Morgana. I think I'm dying."

Morgana tried not to smile. "Bri, you're not dying. You've just got a very bad cold, which you've had for five days. Coincidentally so has Sir Bedivere. I wonder who could possibly have given him that?"

Bridget blew her nose loudly. "I'm sure I have no idea," she replied innocently, though the effect was somewhat lost as she could no long pronounce her d's. "Sir Bedivere should think himself lucky if all he has is a cold. He has no idea the agonies I'm suffering."

Morgana eyed the comfortable, fluffy double bed Bridget was propped up in, surrounded by mounds of fresh, juicy fruit and brightly coloured, sweet scented flowers.

"You're right; you do look like you're suffering." She raised an eyebrow. "Does that window look out onto the training fields?"

Bridget didn't even blink. "Really? I had no idea."

"Bri."

"What? You wouldn't deny a dying woman her last chance to look upon half naked men now would you?"

"What about Sir Bedivere?"

"He can look at them as well if he likes."

Morgana frowned.

"Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud, Morgana. What Sir Bedivere doesn't know can't hurt him. And it would be almost criminal if no-one was there to see Sir Gaheris oil slicked and wrestling with the equally impressive Sir Laherin. Or Sir Alowys. And then there's Sir Thenler..."

"Just how many knights are you watching?"

"Well it would just be bad manners to show favouritism. So I've decided the only way to be fair is to-"

"Lust after all of them?"

"Now you sound like Father Markus. '_Lust is a sin, my children. The devil tempts us with the fruits of the flesh but we should beware fornication! Fornication and adultery!'_"

"Well at least you were listening on Sunday. I suppose that's something."

"Of course I was listening. Unlike you and Gwen. I saw you almost falling asleep in the pew. What kept you up so late?"

Morgana shifted uncomfortably. "Oh you know. It was a big party you threw and then Gwen and I stayed up late talking into the early hours."

"So it was nothing to do with that other woman they found then?"

Morgana rolled her eyes. "Does everyone know?"

"She was called Katherine Swanson. Recently widowed with two small boys who've gone to live with their uncle now." Bridget paused for breath and then explained. "Your servants like to talk."

"That's just what your brother said."

"You've been talking with Thaniel?"

"Yes, in the music room." Too late she realised her mistake. "I meant banqueting hall." She nodded firmly. "Slip of the tongue. Mind thinks one thing, mouth says another."

"Stop babbling Morgana, I already know all about Thaniel's playing. I've known for months. He thinks he's keeping it secret." She laughed. "He should know better."

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "But you haven't told him you know?"

"No. I'm waiting for the right moment to spring it on him. Then make him play constantly until he makes up for not telling me about his little talent."

"Bri, you are cruel."

"I know…fun isn't it?" She toyed innocently with the bed cover. "Did he give you your present?"

Morgana couldn't help but laugh. "Do you know everything?"

"He asked me what I thought you'd like. I told him anything that could stop a man dead in his tracks. I meant a fabulously seductive dress. He took me literally and went for weapons." Bridget frowned at Morgana's expression. "I'm joking darling, I did suggest a dagger. I thought you'd be bored of dresses and jewellery by now, and I know how much you enjoyed dressing up as a knight when we were little."

Something in Morgana's mind twinged at her words. "So you chose the dagger then?"

"Oh no, Thaniel picked it. I just advised." Seeing the look on Morgana's face she patted her hand. "What's wrong? Don't you like it?"

"Yes of course. It's lovely."

Morgana pasted on a smile and let Bridget chatter on, grateful when Gaius eventually arrived to administer more medicine and she could escape without appearing rude.

Back in her room she stared through her bed as though she could see the book and the dagger underneath.

Perhaps, she thought, she ought to bury it far away- was that safer than keeping it under her bed? Could the unknown woman in her dream find the dagger if she buried it? Was that more likely than her knowing of the hiding space beneath the bed?

Arthur knew of the space, and her nursemaid but she had died years ago…and of course Bridget knew…

_I believe it's a woman_

Morgana squashed the stray thought instantly.

But merely to placate the prickling sense of unease she felt she took the dagger out from under the bed, slipped it up her sleeve and made her way out of the castle into the back gardens, to the very edges where the huge hedged maze grew, tangled and unkempt with wild rose bushes threading through it. The gardeners had given up on it years ago, too big and too unruly for them to tame.

Now only she and the birds ever came here.

Morgana stepped into the cool darkness of the maze, the hedges swallowing the sunlight, and turned left. Thorns snagged her sleeves as though the maze was embracing her and didn't want to let her go. She turned right, left, left, then right again, her steps sure and unfaltering- this path memorized from her childhood summers here at the castle, when Gorlois had brought her. When she'd tired of beating Arthur and his friends at their own games and she was bored playing families with the village girls she'd wander down to the maze and walk the paths that were then clear of weeds and wildlife.

And it was here that she and Arthur had…

Suddenly she was in the centre.

There was the old damson tree in the middle, its leaves just starting to unfurl, trunk scored with her name and Arthur's beside it. She ignored the large heart encircling it and knelt down before the tree. With her hands she dug away the dirt from beneath an exposed root, thrusting the dagger down into the narrow space between rock and root, till it was merely a glimmer in the earth. Piling soil back over, she rolled a few large stones over and satisfied it was well and truly buried she smiled.

Now only she knew where it was. Vision averted.

She'd just stood up and finished wiping dirt from her hands when a voice came from behind her.

"I thought I might find you here."

She stiffened.

When she said nothing, Arthur continued. "You always come here when you're upset."

"Excuse me." She made to move past him. His arm against the hedge blocked her path.

"Morgana, this has to stop," he said firmly. "You can't keep avoiding me."

"Let me leave."

"You know I'm sorry for what I said."

"Let. Me. Leave."

"Morgana, what more can I do to say I'm sorry? I try to apologise and you ignore me, I send you flowers- you give them to Gwen." A shadow of a smile graced his lips. "Her room's beginning to resemble a meadow," he joked.

She remained stubbornly silent, staring somewhere over his shoulder.

His humour drained away and instead he sighed, defeated in the face of her coldness. "I was jealous."

The admission, painfully given, made her look at him, though her lips still stayed pressed firmly together.

"You're not going to make this easy are you?" He scrubbed a hand through his hair and the next words tumbled out altogether, his face flushed with the excruciating task of admitting his feelings. "I was jealous of Thaniel. I thought that I'd lost you and it killed me to think that you'd be marrying him…" _instead of me_ hung in the air. "I know it's no excuse-"

"You're right," she interrupted, her voice hard, though her face had softened slightly at his words. "You don't treat people you care about like that."

"I know and I'm sorry. Just tell me what I can do to make it up to you."

"I don't know."

"Morgana, please," and he hated that she had reduced him to begging.

She shook her head. "I need time."

"I will make this right." He caught her hand as she began to brush past him. He pressed his fingers to hers solemnly. "I swear it."

"Don't make more promises you can't keep." Her eyes swept over the tree standing silently in the middle, watching them. "Especially here."

His gaze fell on their names, the heart he'd carved with his own knife in his adolescence.

"Morgana…"

But she'd already gone.

* * *

Another day passed, and still the prickling sense of unease at the back of her head had grown stronger and stronger.

Unable to concentrate on anything, she'd resorted to pacing up and down her room, fingers tapping anxiously against her thigh, her footsteps measured to the thin beat of disquiet in the corner of her mind.

Surely she had done everything she could? Gaius and Merlin had come up with nothing in their investigation so far to prove it was anything other than a mortal killer, but the agitation would not leave.

She was just contemplating pulling out the book again and scouring it for any further clues when there was a knock at the door.

Without waiting for a response Arthur strode in, followed by an apologetic looking Merlin.

"It's Bridget. Bridget's the one killing the women."

There was a beat of silence.

Morgana crossed her arms. "That's the worst attempt at an apology I have ever heard."

"Just hear me out." Arthur began to tick his fingers off. "Bridget arrives, the first dead body appears. She goes out to town to collect things for the party or so she says; the next day another body appears. Now she's ill and nobody has died. Don't you think that's a little suspicious?"

"Have you gone completely mad?" Morgana snapped. "It's pure coincidence. Bridget wouldn't hurt a soul."

"She's part ogre, for goodness sake," Arthur retorted. "She's strong enough to do it."

"Sorry?" Merlin's eyebrows had disappeared into his hairline. "She's part what?"

"Ogre."

Morgana shot Arthur a nasty look. "And we're not supposed to speak of it."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "It's hardly a secret. Bridget's ancestors were ogres on her mother's side. Her great, great, great uncle or something like that fell in love with one. Accidentally, I think. There were some rumours of a spell or something. At any rate, they ended up consummating it-"

"Thanks for that image," Merlin muttered.

"-before the spell was broken and hey presto half human half troll baby twelve months later."

"Twelve?"

Arthur shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know, different gestation period. Ask your mother. Or Morgana."

"Thanks," she said dryly. "Anyway, that's why Bridget is so strong, but doesn't have the urge to live in a bog and eat worms." She folded her arms. "Fine, lets say she did kill them. You still have no motive."

Arthur scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I know."

"I'm surprised," said Morgana archly. "I would have thought you'd have come up with a suitably fantastic reason why she wanted to drown young women. You seem so set on her being the murderer."

Arthur let out a deep sigh. "It was just a hypothesis. I do like her you know."

"Really? You have a funny way of showing it."

"Just because she's your friend, doesn't automatically mean I want her to be a serial killer."

Morgana snorted. "That's what you seem to be implying."

"I'm just saying there are a lot of coincidences involved."

"But someone was with Bridget every time she left the castle," cut in Merlin, before the argument escalated.

"Actually," Morgana admitted, "that's not quite true. She's left plenty of times on her own. Occasionally I went with her or Gwen. And of course some of the knights…"

"You mean knights like Sir Bedivere, who're wrapped round her little finger," Arthur pointed out. "It wouldn't have taken much to convince them she needed to be alone for a while, or to slip off unnoticed."

Another knock at the door cut off Morgana's reply. An auburn head poked itself round the door.

"Bridget!"

"Speak of the devil."

Morgana trod sharply on Arthur's foot. She turned to her friend and smiled weakly.

"You're feeling better then?"

Bridget nodded enthusiastically. "Shopping is a remedy to cure all ills."

"Shopping?" Said Arthur warily.

"I was talking to one of your servant girls and apparently there's a fayre here on Monday." Bridget smiled brightly and latched onto Arthur's arm. "We could all go together!"

"It's such a terrible shame I'm busy that day," Arthur replied, discreetly trying to prise his arm out of Bridget's grip. "Aren't I, Merlin?"

Startled the young man slipped against the bedpost that was propping him up. "Ye-yes! That's right. Busy doing…" he fumbled. "Many important princely things like um…bowing and…wearing a crown?"

Bridget smirked. "Sounds like a hectic schedule. Watch you don't tire yourself out." She let go of his arm, and headed to the door. "I'll see you outside the castle gates after the morning bells have struck." Bridget smiled sunnily, before disappearing back out of the room.

Merlin rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I'll just go put myself in the stocks then, shall I?"

Arthur just looked at him.

Merlin coughed and began to back away. "Right."

"Oh and Merlin?"

"Sire?" He looked up hopefully.

"Make sure the villagers have really, really rotten fruit and vegetables."

As soon as the door had closed, Morgana turned to Arthur disapprovingly.

"Don't look at me like that. He's got me in this mess. Now I have to endure a day of…girl stuff," he said indignantly. "I've got better things to be doing then watching you lot go gaga over a bolt of cloth."

"Yes," said Morgana, expressionless. "We heard. You forced Merlin to explain."

The prince huffed. "Alright I'll go and rescue him in a minute. Honestly, can't even punish your own servants these days without someone making a fuss."

"Poor little prince," Morgana rolled her eyes. "After that display, do you still think Bridget's a serial killer?"

Arthur shrugged. "Either way she's a pain in my ars-"

Morgana trod on his foot again.

* * *

"Close your eyes and open your mouth."

Morgana raised an eyebrow questioningly, but did as she was bid. Something smooth and sweet entered her mouth and she bit down hard as Thaniel pressed a chocolate covered strawberry to her lips, the juices spilling over. Her eyes flickered open and she caught the tip of his finger with her lips as her mouth closed.

Arthur clenched his fists.

"Having fun sire?" Merlin beamed as he bounced over to him. "Look what I've bought!" He held up a box of gingerbread. "Biscuits shaped like people!"

"Merlin," said Arthur between gritted teeth. "Do I look like I care?"

"Well," said Merlin hesitantly, "actually you look rather grouchy. And from your tone of voice I'd suggest that you were veering from unhappy to upset." He spotted Morgana and Thaniel at the food sellers stall. "Ah. Is it because the love of your life is being fed sugary sweets by your arch rival?"

"Merlin."

"Shutting up."

Gwen came up beside them, a basket on one arm, and a worried expression on her face. "Has anyone seen Lady Bridget? I can't find her anywhere."

"No." A sudden gleam came into Arthur's eye and he shoved Merlin forwards. "Merlin, why don't you go over there and tell them Bridget's gone. I'm sure Lord Thaniel would want to know his sister's missing."

Merlin shared a look with Gwen but did as he was bid. He wandered over and coughed awkwardly, just as Thaniel prepared to offer Morgana sugared almonds. "Prince Arthur would like me to inform you that your sister is missing."

Thaniel looked over to where Arthur was nonchalantly leaning against a market table. His eyes narrowed.

"She could be anywhere." Morgana bit her lip worriedly. "Merlin, go over there with Thaniel and see if you can find her. I'll take Gwen and retrace our steps."

She'd just begun to move back towards the rest of the group when Bridget appeared suddenly from a side alley.

"Bridget!" Morgana hugged her in relief. "There you are. Where did you disappear off to?"

"I got lost in the crowd," she replied flustered. "This place is bigger than you think."

Morgana linked arms with her. "Come on, why don't you come round with me? I know this perfect little stall, which you'd love. You'll be alright, won't you, Thaniel?"

Left with little choice he nodded and the two women walked off, leaving him alone beside the sweetmeats stall.

Merlin wandered over to Arthur. "Well? You're smiling and Lord Thaniel looks like he wants to kill you so I'm pretty sure I can presume that your plan worked."

Arthur smirked. "Perfectly. Welcome to the world of politics."

Merlin shivered at the black look on Thaniel's face and clutched his gingerbread men closer. "I'm not sure I like that world."

* * *

_The mist was back again, surrounding her thickly till she was shivering with cold as it clung to her skin, as though she had walked into a cloud. It clung to her even as she tried to move forwards towards the glimmering light in the distance. _

_Suddenly three figures appeared in the light before her, two men leading a dark haired woman through a forest, one man holding a sword in his hand, his chainmail glinting in the sunlight and from his golden hair..._

_Arthur, she realized with a shock. And there was Merlin, casting wary glances at the woman in between them._

_The woman, whose face was obscured. _

_She tried desperately to see, but the mist caught at Morgana's ankles. She struggled against it, but it held her fast._

_And suddenly there was a dagger in the woman's hand. A brief sliver of deadly flashing silver._

_She lunged for Arthur's neck. _

"_No!"_

_Suddenly the scene shifted and she found herself in Camelot's labyrinth of dungeons, her hands pulled high above her head and chained to the ceiling. She struggled against the bonds but there was no escaping the iron shackles that wrapped around her wrists._

_And then she was surrounded by shadowy figures, curling around her, and whispering, harsh guttural noises she could almost understand. She strained against her bonds. Almost…_

_The group of shadows shifted suddenly._

_And there was Bridget._

_Bridget, with a sword held deceptively loosely in her hand, the shining, whip thin blade outstretched towards the pale skin of Morgana's neck, where the blood pumped quickly, so close to the surface. Waiting to be spilled._

"_Kill them." _

_Bridget's voice was void of any emotion, her eyes dead._

Morgana shot up in bed, sweating, as the warning bells of the church rang out loud into the night. She slipped out of bed, as frightened calls sounded from the courtyard, flares of light from torches suddenly bursting into light all round the castle.

She opened the door just as Arthur strode past, still buckling his tunic, sword in hand, his hair mussed from sleep.

"Arthur?"

"Go back to bed, Morgana," he warned. "Go back to bed and lock the door."

"What is it? What's happened?"

Arthur's face was grim. "They've found another body."

* * *

**Please read and review!**

Hey guys, so sorry for the delayed update but I've just finished my degree (whoop I got a First!) and I had to graduate, then I moved house and found I have to install the internet. Which won't turn up for at least a week. Sad times :( So I'm uploading this from my parent's house :)

Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Just a quick piece of info: in the language of flowers hyacinths mean 'please forgive me' and red tulips mean 'I love you'. Strangely they didn't seem to have a flower for 'sorry I accused you of being a woman of loose morals, I'm a royal jackass, but I love you and that bloke you like is an idiot.' So I had to make do ;)


	5. Of Knights & Notes

**Title:** Drowning In You

**Rating:** T

**Pairing: **Arthur/Morgana.

**Summary:** Someone is drowning young women in Camelot. With no motive and no suspects, Morgana must work out who the murderer is before she becomes the next victim…

* * *

Toeing on her slippers and grabbing a silver candlestick she dashed out after him. Arthur looked at her incredulously.

"Do you listen to anything I tell you?"

She scoffed. "Of course not."

"You should really stay inside," he urged.

"Arthur, shut up." Morgana rolled her eyes and brandished the candlestick. "I'm coming with you."

"Fine woman, but when Father gives me an earful for letting you out here you can explain to him why you disobeyed me."

"Disobeyed you?" She began to stride down the hallway, forcing Arthur to follow after her. "Sorry to remind you, but I'm not your pet dog."

"No, I like dogs."

Morgana eyed him distastefully. "The resemblance between you is uncanny. I can see you as a golden retriever. Blonde, slobbery…smells when wet."

"I do not smell when wet!"

They slipped down the stone staircase emerging into the foyer. "Arthur, sometimes your horse smells sweeter than you do." She smirked. "And sometimes Merlin smells better than either of you."

"Merlin?" He stormed out after her into the rain slicked courtyard, but his retort was cut off by Sir Leon and several others of his men hurrying over to him.

"Sire, we've found another body…" The knight trailed off as he glanced at Morgana and then down to her candlestick.

Arthur coughed pointedly.

Sir Leon blushed bashfully and with some difficulty tore his eyes away from Morgana back to his Prince. "Another woman by the lake. She seems to have…to have been drowned like the others…"

The knight trailed off again to stare at Morgana, who crossed her arms self consciously and raised an eyebrow.

"Sir Leon?" Arthur's thin patience snapped as the knight's attention was once again diverted. Following his line of sight he turned to Morgana.

His eyes widened. "Morgana," he growled, glaring at his knights, "you're in your nightdress."

"I know what I'm wearing Arthur, I don't need an update every time I change outfit."

"No, I mean you're in your _nightdress_. It's thin, and white." He cleared his throat and moved to shield her from the gaze of his men. "It's wet out here."

Morgan's face went white then red, her face flushing along her high cheekbones. Wordlessly Arthur pulled his tunic over his head, leaving him bare-chested in the courtyard.

She swallowed.

His eyes fixed firmly at a point just above her left ear he handed it to her. "Put this on." His face pulled into a frown as he glanced back at his knights, who were all suddenly very interested in not looking at Morgana. "It seems I won't get anything done around here otherwise."

Slipping it over her head it almost swamped her, the bottom falling past her knees, the sleeves dangling far over her hands so that she had to roll them up. She crossed her arms. "I look ridiculous."

"But at least you're no longer half naked in the presence of my men." His voice became dry. "Though I'm surprised you'd wear it considering my apparent stench."

"Don't worry; I'm breathing through my mouth."

"Sire, if I might interrupt," said Sir Leon, intervening before there was another body in the courtyard, "if you'll follow me I can show you the corpse."

Returning to the situation at hand, Arthur nodded sharply.

"There wasn't time to take her to Gaius' rooms, what with the panic in the streets and the alarm bells sounding," Sir Leon explained as they crossed the courtyard and through a narrow stone archway into the corridor of rooms belonging to the castle guards that ringed the outer walls of Camelot. "So we laid her out here and summoned the physician to us instead."

He rounded a corner and then halted outside a small room without a door. "My Lord Physician?"

"Enter," called Gaius. The old man looked up from where he was bending over the body as the group trouped in. "Prince Arthur. Lady Morgana," he added, his tone betraying his surprise at her presence and her attire.

"Gaius." Morgana raised an eyebrow pointedly and he turned back to the body, his lips pressed into a thin line, though one of the corners threatened to curl into smile.

"As you can see, it's the same method of murder used to kill her." There was no need to point out the large dark bruises ringing the corpse's neck, or her water logged air cavities. "She was young, and in relative health until she was drowned. And recently I'd say," Gaius surmised.

Morgana looked at the young woman stretched out on the hastily cleared table, her face pale and bloated, her lacklustre blonde hair slicked to her scalp by the murky water. "How can you tell?" she asked quietly.

Gaius picked up the young woman's arm and moved it with difficulty up and then back down. "Rigor mortis is at its height twelve hours after death. As she's still mostly moveable, and doesn't show great signs of decomposition, she must have been killed within the last eight to ten hours I'd estimate."

"Has the King been informed?" asked Arthur.

Gaius nodded gravely. "He's with the knights who found her now, trying to decide how to quell the panic in the streets." He shook his head. "I'm afraid the alarm bells have rather spoiled the King's plan to keep this hushed up."

"Perhaps now it's out in the open we'll have more chance of catching the culprit. Someone might come forward with new information," Morgana pointed out.

"Or it'll drive the murderer underground and there'll be rioting," argued Arthur.

"I'm afraid the prince might be right," said Gaius sagely, washing his hands and motioning for two guards to wrap the body up in a sheet. "This situation could get out of hand very quickly. Let us pray that the King manages to bring calm to his people before daybreak or there may be more bodies for me to examine."

* * *

"Oh look, it's my sweet smelling servant. Glad to see you didn't sleep through the warning bells."

Merlin's face creased in confusion as he pulled back the door to Arthur's chambers and let Arthur and Morgana in. "What?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, shared a vaguely amused look with Morgana and then slumped into the chair nearest the fire. "Nevermind."

"Ignore him Merlin; it's been a long night." Morgana took the chair opposite and curled up, tucking her long legs beneath her.

Merlin nodded and excused himself, slipping out to the kitchens.

"And an even longer one for Father." Arthur scrubbed his face tiredly with his hand. "Another body. Gods, I knew this would happen." His tone turned darkly righteous. "I knew I was right about her, but you wouldn't listen. Now do you believe me?"

Morgana shifted uneasily.

Arthur snorted at her expression. "Surely you can't believe it was another coincidence?"

"I know what it looks like-"

"That Bridget slipped off at the market, murdered another woman and then came back, claiming to have become lost."

Morgana shook her head vehemently, her hair flying widely about her shoulders. "Or she could genuinely have lost us in the crowd and now be the innocent victim in all of this." She curled up closer to the fire, the thought of her friend as a cold blood killer chilling her blood. "Either way you can't just go around accusing her," she asserted pragmatically. "Bridget's nobility, Arthur. Bedworth would probably declare war if you accused his only daughter of murdering villagers."

"Then what do you suggest?" Arthur toed off his boots and sank further into his chair. "Or perhaps you'd prefer to ignore your friend's psychopathic tendencies and continue to pretend that everything is wonderful."

"I'm not trying to pretend everything is wonderful," Morgana argued. "I'm just saying that making unfounded accusations about the daughter of one of your father's closest friends is politically not a good move. Uther would pitch a fit and you'd be thrown in the dungeons."

"Protecting me, Morgana?" Arthur smirked. "I'm touched."

She scowled. "I'm not protecting you, you idiot, I'm trying to prevent your delusions of self-righteousness from causing a war."

"Then what do we do?"

"You need to catch her in the act," suggested Merlin as he re-entered the room and handed Morgana a steaming goblet. "My lady."

"Thank you, Merlin." Morgana bestowed him with one of her lovely smiles as she inhaled the scent of the hot spiced wine, before taking a sip. "That's very thoughtful of you."

Arthur's fingers drummed the arm of his chair impatiently. "Anything for me, Merlin?"

"How about some clothes?" Merlin replied meaningfully, pulling a dark blue shirt from a nearby dresser. "They're all the rage at the moment."

Arthur shot him a look but put it on dutifully. "I meant did you bring anything for me to eat or drink?"

Merlin wavered awkwardly.

"You forgot."

"I didn't forget." Merlin patted himself down desperately and then reached into his pocket. "I have…half an apple." He sniffed at it. "Actually, I think this might have been thrown at me."

"Forget it, Merlin." Arthur sighed and shot Morgana a look. "And you still think he smells sweeter than me?"

"I did say sometimes," Morgana smiled. "But what did you mean Merlin, catching Bridget in the act? We can hardly follow her around all day every day, waiting to see if she snatches another young woman and drowns her."

"Actually," said Arthur thoughtfully, "that's not a bad idea." He turned to where his servant had perched on the edge of the bed. "Merlin, you are to follow Lady Bridget wherever she goes."

"What!" Morgana almost choked on her wine. "That's a ridiculous idea."

Merlin nodded vigorously. "I agree with Lady Morgana."

"Who do you work for?" There was a significant pause as Arthur stared his servant down.

"You." Merlin's answer was hesitant, as though he wasn't sure where this was going but he knew he wouldn't like it when he got there anyway.

"Right, so who do you take orders from?"

"You."

Arthur nodded pointedly. "So for once, listen to what I'm saying and do it. Do not let Bridget out of your sight and report any suspicious activity to me. Do you understand?"

"I take it this is in-between catering for your needs, or do you wish me to devote all my time to stalking her ladyship? And when I'm reporting to you, who's going to be watching her then?"

"Merlin."

"Fine." He crossed his arms. "Anyone else you'd like me to spy on or can I go to bed?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "No, you're dismissed."

With one final despairing look in Morgana's direction Merlin sloped off to his room.

As soon as the door was shut Arthur waggled his finger in Morgana's direction. "This is your influence. He was never this cheeky before." He huffed. "I miss the days of spineless Merlin."

"You could say I just bring out the best in him." Morgana stifled a yawn. "Arthur, having Merlin follow Bridget really is a silly idea."

"You were the one who suggested it."

She glared at him over the rim of her goblet. "In jest."

"Morgana, stop worrying." Arthur stretched lazily and smiled at her. "It's the perfect plan. Either way we prove whether Bridget is guilty or innocent. One of us has to be right." He shrugged. "Besides, she'll never even notice."

* * *

"I think I'm being followed."

Morgana slid from her saddle, gave her horse a pat and then handed the reigns to one of the stable boys. She turned to her friend who was twisting a handkerchief round in her hands and gently slid her hand into the crook of her elbow.

"Whatever gives you that idea?"

Bridget let herself be steered into the walled gardens, her face puckered with worry. "Sometimes I have this prickling sensation at the back of my neck, as though eyes are watching me, and when I turn round I'm sure I see a, a boy… a man watching me. But as soon as I blink he's gone."

"Sounds like a healthy dose of paranoia to me," Morgana soothed, her gut twisting at the lie.

Bridget didn't look convinced. "What if it's the murderer? What if I'm his next victim?"

"Bri, it's not the murderer," said Morgana firmly. "Besides, Gaius already established that it has to be a woman committing these crimes. And I highly doubt you're next on the list of victims. This person seems to be attacking only the village women. Not someone within the protection of the castle walls, under Uther's very nose."

"But what if it is?"

"And I'm telling you it's not." Morgana squeezed her hands and sat them down on a low stone bench. "Let's talk about something else. Have you decided what token you're going to give Sir Bedivere tomorrow?"

Bridget's face brightened slightly. "My handkerchief." She glanced down where the piece of silk lay crumpled in her fingers, and hastily began to smooth out the creases. "It's intimate enough to please him, and yet not so much that it would publically disgrace me."

"Good compromise. I'm sure your Father will appreciate your discretion."

Bridget hummed, tongue between her teeth as tried to smooth a particularly stubborn wrinkle. "Yes. I think if I'd offered my garter to Bedivere, Father might have suffered an apoplexy and I didn't want to spoil his day. He's certainly looking forward to it, as I am. A chance to see all of your fine knights in action." Bridget glanced slyly at her friend. "And of course Thaniel's taking part too."

"Is he?" Morgana feigned indifference. "I hope he knows what he's letting himself in for."

"Of course he does. The chance to win fifty gold crowns, to kiss your hand, to claim you as his lady."

"That's not what I meant." Morgana began to pick distractedly at the leaves of a nearby shrub. "I'm sure it's the money that's the key motivator anyway."

"I don't think my brother is quite that mercenary. And we're hardly in need of the money." Bridget watched her from beneath her lashes. "Has he asked for your token yet?"

"No."

"And Arthur?"

"Hasn't either. Perhaps neither of them wish to be my champion."

"And Uther is going to start wearing a dress and calling himself Elaine." Bridget frowned. "Perhaps they're just waiting for the opportune moment."

"Yes well, let's hope that isn't in the arena before the tournament starts. I'd have to choose between them."

There was a pregnant pause and Morgana blanched as the implications suddenly hit home. She gripped Bridget's arm hard and cursed loudly.

"They're going to make me choose."

* * *

"Uther, this was an exceptional idea. An excellent distraction for the populace from all of this grim news."

The King smiled genially at his friend. "A riot was the last thing we needed. This way the knights of Camelot can demonstrate their abilities and impress upon the public that they will be well protected."

Bedworth nodded. "And here come two of our finest competitors now! Hail Prince Arthur. My son."

Sat beside the two men in the royal box, Morgana shifted uncomfortably. Bridget patted her hand consolingly as Gwen took her seat behind them. "You should be flattered."

"Flattered? They bloody well planned this and I'm going to kill them both."

"Not before they kill each other," Bridget said lowly. "Arthur looks positively thunderous and I haven't seen my brother this grim since…well since ever."

Morgana had time to shoot her friend a withering look before Thaniel and Arthur were bowing low in front of her.

Arthur gazed at her seriously. "My lady Morgana, I request the pleasure of wearing your token as I fight today."

"My lady," said Thaniel, stepping slightly in front of the prince, "I too petition you for the honour and privilege of bearing your token in the tournament."

Indecision gnawed her insides.

She glanced at where both Bedworth and Uther sat waiting impatiently for her to decide, Uther's face inscrutable, Bedworth's mildly amused. She couldn't be rude to their guests, but she knew what signal it would send if she simply handed her token to Thaniel and snubbed the prince.

Her eyes narrowed. If they wished to make her choose they were sorely mistaken. Morgana was no-one's puppet.

"Gentlemen. My decision is this."

She tossed the handkerchief high in the air. The scrap of blue and purple with the House of Gorlois embroidered in the corners fluttered high in the breeze. A sudden gust caught it and sent it swooping abruptly down low. The two men jostled each other to reach it, arms outstretched, fingers straining to grasp.

And then it was caught in a vice like grip, crushed in a knight's hand.

"My lady." Thaniel kissed the token before tying it to his armour. "I win this tournament in your honour."

There was little Arthur could say. He nodded curtly at his opponent and to the royal box, refusing to catch Morgana's eye as he stalked off over to where Merlin was polishing his sword.

"Who could have thought such a tiny thing could cause such a rift between two men?" Uther muttered lowly in her ear, so only she could hear. "A very diplomatic response Morgana. Well done."

Morgana could only nod distractedly, her eyes still focussed on Arthur who was swinging the blade in his hand like an extension of himself. If she listened very faintly she could hear the hum of the sword as it cleaved the air in two.

"Well this should be interesting," murmured Bridget.

Morgana twisted the fabric of her dress in her hands. "This isn't going to end well."

* * *

Three hours later and Bridget had leaped up, shouting. "No! Not at his face!"

People were staring Morgana realised. She tugged at her friend's sleeve. "Bri! Sit down; you're making a spectacle of yourself."

"I don't care," Bridget retorted and turned back to the arena. She shook her fist at Sir Michael. "Aim lower! Aim lower!" She winced as Bedivere took another hit from Michael's sword, the sound of the blade hitting his armour ringing out into the arena. "Not that low you cheat!"

"My dear," said Bedworth, his face turning as red as his beard. "Please control yourself, or I will have you sent back to the castle."

Bridget reluctantly resumed her seat, though she didn't stop muttering. "My poor Sir Bedivere."

"Bri, he's twenty seven years old," Morgana consoled her. "I think he can take care of himself."

"Did you even see that last hit?" Bridget's head sunk into her hands as Sir Michael continued to beat Sir Bedivere quite soundly. "If he comes out of this tournament with the ability to have children it'll be a miracle."

Morgana and Gwen exchanged looks. There was a great cry from the crowd, as with one final blow Bedivere sank to his knees, Michael's blade at his throat, his helmet cast off, face glistening with sweat and dirt.

"Do you yield?"

Bedivere nodded tiredly. "Aye, I concede."

Bridget groaned into her hands as the trumpets sounded and Michael helped Bedivere up, the two knights walking out of the arena in separate directions- Michael to the next round of competitions, Bedivere limping towards the medical tents.

"Lady Bridget, would you like me to inquire after Sir Bedivere's health?" Said Gwen kindly. "It would be no trouble."

Bridget nodded vigorously. "Thank you, Gwen."

The two women settled back to watch the next round of contests, but Gwen didn't reappear again until the final match.

"My lady, I'm sorry I took so long but there was…" she trailed off as she caught sight of the two men in the arena fighting each other, the dust around them flying up into a great cloud, their blades deadly and shining as they duelled.

"Is that Prince Arthur and Lord Thaniel?"

"Yes," replied Bridget seeing as Morgana was unable to reply, her gaze fixed unblinking on the fight in front of her, fingers wrapped around the wooded railing that circled the arena, nails making grooves in the soft wood, knuckles white. "Though what'll be left of them after this I have no idea. How's Bedivere?"

Gwen winced as with a particularly hard blow Arthur stumbled and almost fell to the floor, Thaniel's sword cleaving the air before viciously denting the prince's chest armour.

"He's as well as can be expected, my lady," she replied tentatively as Arthur swung back in retaliation, his sword thrust low and accurate, clipping Thaniel's leg greaves and nicking his calves. The blood welled thick and red, staining the metal. "He's broken a rib and has some bruising on his face…"

Thaniel's thrust was parried and Arthur smashed his sword handle upwards, knocking the other man's helmet off his head, sending it spinning into the dirt. Thaniel spat out a mouthful of blood, his nose bloodied as well before going on the offensive again, his sword aimed high at Arthur's throat.

"Gaius thinks he might have a minor concussion too, but apart from that the rest of his injuries are minor."

There was a scuffle as both men grappled for the upper hand, the fight drawing to a climax.

And then Thaniel was lying on his back in the dirt, his sword knocked from his hand and lying discarded behind him. At some point Morgana's handkerchief had broken free from its fastenings and now landed at Arthur's feet.

"Yield." Arthur's voice was as soft as steel, his hand unwavering on his sword, the blade point resting lightly at Thaniel's jugular.

"I yield."

There was a tense moment as nobody moved, the two men in tableau against the sky.

Then Arthur drew his arm back and reached a hand down. Wordlessly he picked up the token lying limply before him, and then helped his opponent stand. Uther was beaming from ear to ear as his son made his way over to the royal box. Even Bedworth looked impressed, though his eyes also held concern for Thaniel, who bowed briefly before walking off towards the medical tents.

Morgana could only watch in silence, her face impassive.

The trumpets blared, playing the traditional victor's fanfare before Uther signalled for silence.

"My people, I present to you your Tournament Champion, Prince Arthur."

There was a loud cheer from the assembled crowd, their faces bright with the excitement they had just witnessed, the atmosphere buzzing with electricity.

Uther glanced at Morgana and then back to Arthur. "Champion, you may collect your prize."

There was a dark look in Arthur's eyes Morgana didn't like, but she offered her hand anyway for the customary knightly kiss.

Instead he gripped her hand firmly and pulled her down towards him.

Her mouth met his.

There were loud gasps from the watching crowd, but Morgana could only focus on Arthur's mouth against hers. It was a hard kiss, nothing soft or chivalrous about it. It was angry and passionate, and her teeth bumped against his. When he suddenly let her go she knew that her lips would be bruised.

He thrust the token she had given Thaniel into the hand he still gripped. "Next time, my lady, I suggest you choose your champion more wisely."

And then he stalked away, not even giving her time to reply.

Merlin gave her a helpless look before scurrying after Arthur, the chest of fifty gold coins clutched to his thin chest. The crowd were still chattering excitedly amongst themselves and Morgana realised Uther was looking at her.

For a moment everything swam in front of her and she could see Gwen's concerned face come closer to her own.

"Morgana?"

Then her hands curled into fists at her sides and she stood up and silently left the royal box as though nothing had happened.

* * *

Three hours later (having stewed her anger until it was at a low continual simmer) there was a knock at Morgana's chamber door. She yanked it open unceremoniously, only to see Arthur on the other side.

"I've come for my tunic," he announced abruptly.

Taking a calming breath she tried to make her tone as mild as possible. "I'm afraid it's being washed, so if you want it you'll have to go down to the laundry rooms."

"Fine." He hesitated as though he wanted to say something else, thought better of it and turned on his heel.

Something inside of Morgana snapped. "It was a tournament, Arthur; you didn't have to beat him up."

He spun back on his heel, his eyes dark and furious. "Oh, so you've been and checked on him then have you?"

"Of course I have, he was my champion, and he is my friend." Morgana's fury rose up like a silent tidal wave inside of her as Arthur scoffed. "You broke his nose!"

"He's a grown man, Morgana. If he can't take it then he's not worthy of being a knight."

She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to calm her frustration and failing. "Could you remove your head from your arse for a moment?"

"You were the one saying you didn't want to marry him." He smacked the doorframe with a fist. "Now all of a sudden he's feeding you fruit, you're giving him tokens-"

"Giving me sweetmeats is hardly a declaration of love, Arthur. And it was o_ne_ token, thank you."

Arthur snorted. "You must know what it looks like."

"You almost sound jealous," said Morgana tartly, her arms crossed. "Is that what that display was about earlier? You marking your territory? You might as well have cocked your leg and pissed round me for everyone to see."

A passing servant scurried past blushing.

Morgana lowered her voice. "Why don't you just come out and say it? You don't like Thaniel because he likes me."

"It's not a matter of liking him. I just hope you know what you're getting yourself into, Morgana."

"You have the nerve to warn me?" Morgana's scorn was scalding. "Out of the two of us, you're the one who's twice been under a love spell, proposed marriage and nearly caused a war. Not to mention the countless servants you've bedded, and foreign princesses you've courted." She jabbed a finger in his chest deliberately, knowing he would be bruised from where Thaniel had hit him in their match. She was rewarded when he winced. "So don't you dare lecture me, Arthur Pendragon. You have no right."

Arthur sighed and dropped his fist from the doorframe.

Which is when Morgana slammed the door in his face.

* * *

When Gwen knocked tentatively an hour later she found Morgana pacing up and down her room like a caged lioness, muttering to herself.

"Insufferable, obnoxious, irritating man."

"The um…discussion between you and Prince Arthur didn't go well then?" Gwen hovered in the doorway, a basket of neatly laundered clothes under one arm.

"I suppose the whole castle knows, doesn't it?"

Gwen nodded hesitantly. "You were quite loud."

Morgana threw herself down on her bed and groaned. "Fantastic. My day is now complete."

Gwen successfully hid a smile and set the basket down on the dressing table, beginning to carefully unpack. "He cares about you. I think he doesn't want to see you hurt."

"When did you join the Arthur fan club?"

Gwen rolled her eyes. "I haven't. But he does have a point."

"Not you too. We both know I can take care of myself."

"Morgana," Gwen caught her gaze in the looking glass. "I would hate to see you married to a man you didn't truly love. You'd both end up being miserable."

"Gwen, no-one's mentioned marriage. Thaniel's only known been here two weeks, for goodness sake."

"But he is courting you," she countered.

"And what's wrong with that? He's kind, handsome, funny, and generous. He listens to my opinions. He doesn't patronise me."

"But he's not Arthur." Gwen paused and her eyes strayed to the bed. "We both know you've been wearing his shirt to sleep in."

"It's comfortable," Morgana protested weakly. At Gwen's upraised eyebrow she caved, a sardonic smile curving her lips. "Tell him it's been lost if he does go looking for it in the laundry rooms, though I doubt he will. He's too proud to go and hunt down one lost shirt." Morgana sighed and picked at a loose thread on her bedcover. "I can't win. When a man shows interest in me, Arthur becomes jealous. He's angry, irrational, and very poor company. And then when they leave (and they always do) Arthur pretends it never happened and shows barely any interest in my existence."

"I wish I could do something to help."

"He's a man; there's no cure for it I'm afraid." Morgana smiled sadly at her friend and shook her head. "I tell you what though; you can help me take my mind off things by letting me help to put away my clothes."

Gwen shrugged and handed her a pile of neatly folded silk dresses. "Go ahead."

Morgana picked the first one up and aired the creamy satin folds out, fixing it on a hook inside the wardrobe before reaching for the next one. She pulled the dark burgundy silk up against her and gently shook it so that the wrinkles fell out.

A piece of folded parchment floated to the floor. Curious, she bent down and picked it up, folding the paper out until she could read the script scrawled on it.

_Meet me by the lake. Midnight tonight._

_Come alone._

She crumpled the note, slipping it up her sleeve as Gwen turned round.

* * *

**Please Read and Review!**

**Reviews = love = world peace.**

**Maybe.**

**P.S The trailer for the new season is now up and it looks very exciting!**

**Though on the downside the writers seem determined to make Morgana bad. But hey ho. In fanfic she can be whatever we like :)**

**Bring on next Saturday!**


	6. Plots & Possession

**Title:** Drowning In You

**Rating:** T

**Pairing: **Arthur/Morgana.

**Summary:** Someone is drowning young women in Camelot. With no motive and no suspects, Morgana must work out who the murderer is before she becomes the next victim…

**Warning: **This story is no longer Season 3 compliant. In this fic I'm just going to ignore the whole Morgana/Arthur half sibling issue. The BBC canon may be big and bold and fairly unstoppable, but at least my story isn't turning into an episode of Jerry Springer.

* * *

"Morgana? Are you feeling well? You barely touched your food at dinner."

"I'm fine." She met Gwen's concerned eyes in the dressing table mirror and pasted on her best smile. "Really. It's just been a long day." She patted her friend's hand as Gwen unravelled the complicated plait she'd put Morgana's hair in for the evening.

"So you're not worrying about Prince Arthur are you? Or Lord Thaniel."

Morgana laughed, but it sounded hollow even to her own ears. "Well they are enough to put anyone off their dinner."

"That's not what I meant."

Morgana sighed and stood up, shrugging Gwen's hands away and finished unplaiting her hair herself. "I said I'm fine. Truly," she added more kindly when she noted the hurt look on Gwen's face. "There's no need to worry about me."

Gwen nodded unsurely, and then hesitated. "Do you need me for anything else?"

"No, you can go to your own bed now if you wish." Morgana twisted her fingers in her hair, snarling the black locks around her hands. "I can put myself to bed."

"Goodnight then. I'll see you in the morning."

Morgana swallowed and looked away. "Goodnight, Gwen."

She waited until her maid's footsteps had faded away, before counting backwards from five hundred. When Gwen had not returned and the corridors had fallen silent Morgana pulled off her nightgown and shrugged on her riding tunic and clothes, tugging on her boots, and wrapping her thick fur jacket around her for warmth. She bundled her nightgown up and put it in the bed, before pulling the covers up around it so that if one glanced at the bed it looked like Morgana was merely sleeping heavily, cosily wrapped up under the many blankets.

She hoped Gwen would forgive her.

And then she dipped underneath the bed, pushed hurriedly at the stone tile and pulled out Grimacre's book, flipping through it until she found the page she needed. Reading by candlelight she memorised the list of words, the ingredients she would need for the spell and then shut the book, slipping it back into its hiding place.

Brushing the dust from her knees she took one final look around her room and then edged the door open. Peering out into the dark corridors and noting that all was clear she shut her door and locked it with her own key. That would give her some time if she was not back by morning.

Taking a deep breath she set off down the stone hallways, keeping to the shadows, her footsteps silent and quick as she headed towards the physician's chambers.

For her plan to work she needed a miracle.

What she'd had to settle for was a black candle, ground nightshade, three sage leaves, and antimony. All things, of course, that would be found in Gaius' chambers. Obviously, sneaking into his rooms and stealing his ingredients in the middle of the night was not going to be easy. Especially when Merlin was also sleeping in there.

If anything went wrong and she was caught, no excuse in the world would get her out of this mess.

But she had no choice. She had to try.

Gaius' rooms were bathed in darkness when she finally pushed the door open. Fortunately the door itself was well oiled and didn't creak as she gently slipped past it and began to scan the shelves of his apothecary by moonlight.

The black candle was easy enough to find and the sage leaves were in the herbs and spices box that he kept on a shelf by the window. But the ground nightshade was nowhere to be seen and the antimony was on a ledge high up, so that she had to stretch for it on tiptoe.

Her fingers grazed the silvery rock but couldn't find purchase. She reached again, straining the muscles in her legs, her fingers arched out to scrape against it. The antimony shifted nearer as she nudged it with her fingertips and it inched closer and closer to the ledge. One final push and suddenly it was falling and it was going to hit the stone tiles with a loud clatter and her plan would be ruined...

But she caught it nimbly, years of illicit sword training honing her reflexes. She pocketed the shining rock with her other items, before biting her lip and beginning her search for the nightshade.

Where did Gaius keep his poisons?

A black wooden box to her right caught her eye. A black box locked up tight, with a small keyhole and the shape of a skull engraved below it. She chewed her lip and then went searching into the physician's desk, finding his chain of keys, quickly sifting through them before finding a tiny decrepit black key, thick with rust and grime.

She slipped it into the lock; her breath caught in her throat as she turned the key.

There was a satisfying click.

The bedroom door opened and Merlin stumbled out.

* * *

He was staring straight at her.

She hadn't had time to move, shock had immobilized her limbs and now she stood prone in the moonlight, one hand on the box of poisons, her other held protectively out in front of her, fingers spread flat and wide like the rays of the sun, as though she could blind Merlin and prevent him from seeing her.

She frowned. He hadn't moved. He was just standing there, staring at her. Eyes narrowed she inched closer.

"Merlin?"

He wasn't staring at her- he was staring through her, his eyes curiously flat and unseeing, glazed still with dreaming.

Unconsciously she relaxed. He was sleepwalking.

With no more time to waste, and being unable to do anything more with Merlin she turned back to the box, flicking back the lid and hurriedly pulling out bottle after bottle of innocuous looking powders and liquids, each neatly labelled with their name and deadly properties.

Her hand closed over nightshade.

Merlin made a jerky movement towards her.

Jittery, she glanced back over to him, but he was still firmly asleep. She took the nightshade from its placeholder, locked the box once more and headed for the door as silently as she had arrived.

With one final fond look at her friend she closed the door behind her and escaped out into the castle grounds heading for the maze.

Inside the familiar hedges she headed directly to the centre and knelt down before the tree there, one hand pressed briefly, reverently, against the names inscribed upon it. Scrabbling at the dirt with her nails she dug up the dagger Thaniel had given her, before bracing herself for the pain and slicing across her left palm. The blood welled thickly and began to drip down on the dark wet soil as she crushed the sage in her right hand mixing it with the blood and pouring the nightshade on top of it all. She cut a few fine strands of hair and added them to the pile before holding the antimony in her bleeding hand, gritting her teeth as the rock scraped against the cut, soaking in her blood and staining the silver ruby.

Then she began to whisper the words of Grimacre's spell, the incantation flowing from her lips as though she'd been practicing magic for years, the knowledge somehow instinctual.

The wick of the candle suddenly flared into life, burning with a bright green flame, and she began to chant faster, the magic pressing heavily against her chest, her hand stinging with the pain of gripping the antimony, the sage, blood, hair and nightshade beginning to bubble as though in an unseen pot.

Then the candle flared brightly again as it melted down, mixing with the bubbling ingredients til it was nothing more than a thick sludge in the dirt and a bit of melted wax.

Morgana stopped chanting as the weight lifted from her, and haphazardly reburied the dagger in the dark, her left hand hampering her. Next she gathered up the still soft and pliable wax, rolling it into a ball and putting it into her pocket. Then gingerly she reached out with her index finger and pressed it into the thick hot sludge, before letting a single drop touch her tongue. She grimaced at the taste, spat onto the ground, and then closed her eyes to wait, just as the spell had instructed.

After all nothing said _trap! _like a mysterious note from an anonymous source.

This was her backup if everything went wrong. Because this was Camelot, and it was Morgana.

Things were almost certain to go wrong.

* * *

"My lady?"

Gwen knocked on the door hesitantly and called again. When there was no reply she tried the handle, but the door was shut tightly. Gwen frowned, rarely used to being locked out of her mistress' chambers, but if Morgana had been unwell in the night and had wished not to be disturbed then perhaps that was why she had locked the door. Gwen fished in her petticoat pockets for her spare key, before slipping it into the lock and opening the door.

"My lady?" She called gently, when she saw the blankets piled up high. Her mouth curved in fond exasperation as she pulled open the curtains, sunlight streaming into the room. "Morgana, you really have to get up you know. You can't hide under the covers all day."

When she still had no response Gwen rolled her eyes and tugged the covers back.

Her mouth opened in shock and the bedsheets dropped from her nerveless fingers.

* * *

Someone was shaking his shoulders roughly.

"Morgana," he growled out tiredly. "Unless you want to join me in bed you will cease and desist this instant."

"I'm not Morgana, Arthur," said an anxious voice above him.

"Guinevere?" Startled, the prince blinked, now completely awake and sat up, unconsciously pulling the bedclothes higher up his chest. He swiped a hand though his hair, blonde tufts sticking out wildly. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"It's Morgana." She wrung her hands. "She's gone and I don't know where she is."

There was a sickening moment as his gut twisted. He tasted something like fear at the back of his throat.

"Have you checked elsewhere?"

"All the places I could think she might be. No sign of her."

Arthur swung himself out of bed and began hastily pulling on his tunic and riding boots. "Merlin!"

The dark haired boy hurried in moments later, did a double take at seeing Gwen, and then rubbed his forehead in confusion. "Sire?"

"Morgana's gone." Arthur's voice, though outwardly composed was threaded through with worry. "Ready my horse. We leave in five minutes."

Merlin nodded and hurried off. Arthur strapped his sword to himself and gave Gwen a tight smile. "I'll find her, I promise. For now tell no-one, especially not my father."

"But what should I say if anyone asks?"

"Guinevere, I trust you. Make something up. No-one must know that she's missing for now. She might have just wandered off ...or she may be in trouble." A muscle in his jaw ticked at that thought. "But until we know for sure it will only cause more panic, and if Morgana has snuck off and Father finds out she'll be punished severely, and neither of us wants to see her in the dungeons."

Gwen nodded her head. "All right."

With one final reassuring look at her he left his rooms and headed for the stables. A nagging at the back of his head and an ache in his heart though made him pause.

Turning on his heel he headed for the old maze he and Morgana had spent so much time in, in their younger years.

Stepping over the threshold and treading the old familiar paths, he tamped down firmly on the rising guilt that always attacked him here, the memories burning painfully and clearly in his head.

The tree, their declaration, promises he didn't keep. The look on her face when he had disappointed her so badly.

He reached the centre, his eyes wet and his heart heavy.

It was deserted, and his final hope that he would find Morgana here was crushed. Everything was as it always was in this still silent world. The tree stood alone, the carving still the same, their names forever immortalised together on the bark.

Something made him pause though.

He stepped closer to the tree, his face creasing as he knelt down by the tree roots and brushed at the disturbed soil. It didn't take him long to uncover the hastily buried dagger.

The dagger stained with bright red blood.

* * *

"Morgana!"

The young woman looked up from her seat on a rock by the edge of the lake, her expression one of bemusement. She raised an eyebrow as the two riders came nearer, Arthur hurriedly dismounting before running over to her, Merlin hanging back awkwardly.

She stood up and brushed a stray piece of grass from her tunic. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? _What's wrong?_" Arthur gripped her tightly, scouring her from top to toe for injuries. "Have you gone _completely insane?_" He hissed at her, shaking her shoulders. "Have you taken leave of what little sense you actually have? How could you be so _stupid_ as to leave the castle on your own?" His face inched closer, his eyes furiously boring into hers. "What if the murderer had targeted you next?"

"You're hurting me," she replied coldly.

He let her go reluctantly, through he didn't let her stray too far from him; his eyes fixed on her form.

"And you didn't even bring anything to protect yourself with. What were you thinking?" He thrust Thaniel's dagger into her hand, the blade now clean and shining once more. "Take this before I kill you myself."

Morgana rolled her eyes. "There's no need to be so dramatic, Arthur." She shrugged and caressed the dagger, before strapping it to her side. "I was getting claustrophobic up in the castle. Not going anywhere, not doing anything new."

"You went riding the other day," Arthur reminded her tightly. "You watched the tournament."

"But I was always surrounded by people. I needed a bit of space. Besides," she argued, "knights patrol here by the water's edge, so I was hardly alone, even if I wanted to be."

He resisted the urge to shake her hard again. "You're lucky Gwen came to me and not Father. He would have thrown you in the dungeons for this."

"I'm surprised you didn't tell him." She smirked. "You always were Daddy's boy."

"Don't tempt me, Morgana."

He turned and began to head towards the horses. "Come on, I've had enough of searching for you this morning. Let's get you back to Camelot before anyone notices you've been more idiotic than Merlin." He shot her a look. "You owe me for this."

Morgana snorted. "Hardly." She nodded at Merlin as they reached the servant boy, still seated on his horse. "You don't mind if I ride with you do you, Merlin? I'm afraid it's too much for the horse to carry both me and Arthur's ego."

Arthur snorted. "You're welcome to her, Merlin."

Morgana just shot him a look and reached up to the saddle to mount, one foot in the stirrup, as she prepared to swing round behind Merlin.

Which is when he noticed how wet her sleeves were...and the tips of her hair, as though she'd been very wet recently...

Merlin's eyes met Morgana's.

"Arthur?" He called urgently.

The prince turned as Morgana dropped back to the ground. She smiled apologetically.

"Sorry about this…" And then she leapt for Arthur.

He just managed to miss the blade aimed for this throat.

Merlin slid from his horse, magic on the tip of his tongue as he watched Arthur and Morgana fight, her agility matching his strength. He winced as Morgana's blade sang over Arthur's head and then down, barely missing his jugular.

"I think she's possessed," he called out.

"Really, Merlin," Arthur said dryly as he ducked another swipe. "What was your first clue?"

Merlin shifted anxiously from one foot to another, looking for an opportunity to help but finding none.

"How do we kill it, without hurting Morgana?" called Arthur.

Merlin raised his hands helplessly. "I don't know."

And then suddenly Morgana's blade was knocked from her hand, and Arthur had his sword to her throat.

"Merlin? Any ideas?"

"Sorry."

Morgana seemed unconcerned however by the weapon resting at her pulse. She merely smirked and ran her hands down her body. Arthur's treacherous eyes couldn't help but follow.

"You can't hurt me," she teased knowingly. "You like this body too much."

His sword handle smashed into her temple.

Morgana dropped to the floor like a stone.

"Arthur!" Merlin frowned. "I'm not sure..."

"It was the only way," Arthur replied quietly, smoothly picking up the unconscious woman in his arms and resting her head in the crook of his neck. "Make yourself useful and help me get her on the horse."

* * *

"She needs help, not this."

They'd had little choice upon their return but to inform the King and Gaius, and now all four of them were down in the dungeons, where Morgana had been chained to a wall by her wrists, conscious once more and furious.

"Morgana's suspicions were right," Gaius said quietly as Uther paced inside the dungeon, casting his ward wary glances every now and then. Morgana angrily rattled her chains every time he did though and hissed, her beautiful features warped with hatred. "She said something magical was behind this all, but without proof there was little we could do about it. Now I'm afraid we may be too late."

"Too late?" Uther's face was a mix of anguish and anger. "Surely there must be something you can do, Gaius?"

"Morgana should be dead, sire. Fossegrim drown people. Not possess them." The physician shook his head, completely at a loss as to what to do. "I don't understand why Morgana wasn't drowned like the other women. It makes no sense." He frowned at the shell of Morgana, as though he could see the creature within her that was controlling her. "The Fossegrim won't tell us why and we can't make her without hurting Morgana's body."

"What do you want?" Said Uther tightly, coming to a standstill in front of Morgana. "Perhaps we can help you."

Morgana, or the thing that was controlling Morgana merely hissed at them and shook her chains more vigorously. "My beloved will kill you all."

"And who is your beloved? Is he the one that has been killing the women?"

The water sprite remained silent however, and merely grinned, her lips pressed tightly together.

"Sire, this is fruitless." Gaius put a hand on Uther's arm and ushered him towards the cell door. "I will consult my books and see what I can find out about possession by Fossegrim. Perhaps a solution will, in time, present itself."

"But how much time do we have?" Uther replied tiredly. He paused at the entrance to the room. "Arthur?"

"I won't be long, Father."

The king hesitated, before casting Morgana one final look as he left. Merlin shut the door behind them, watching over Arthur cautiously, who had stood all this time silent and still.

"Do you think she's still in there?" Said Arthur abruptly. "Morgana. Do you think she's in there, or do you think she's gone? Do you think..." he swallowed as though the words hurt him physically. "Do you think she'll ever come back?"

"Arthur..." Merlin began softly, but he was suddenly interrupted as Morgana shuddered violently and then fell back limply against the dungeon walls, her hair covering her face. She took a deep breath as though she'd been underwater for hours and was suddenly coming up for air, before blinking rapidly and focusing her attention on the others in the cell.

"Arthur?"

"Morgana?" He took a step towards her. "Is that you?"

"Arthur, I don't have much time." Her eyes were wide and frightened as she leant towards him, tears pooling in her eyes. "She'll be back in control soon."

Arthur edged nearer. "Tell me what I can do."

"I-"

He leant closer.

"Arthur!" Merlin warned.

Morgana snapped her teeth and leaped for Arthur, one hand catching round his tunic. Merlin, however, was quicker. One hand grabbed for his shoulder, the other encircling Arthur's wrist, yanking him back hard as Morgana strained against her chains, her hands curled to snare the prince, her teeth bared. All she was left with was a torn bit of cloth for her efforts, which she threw in disgust to the ground, hissing.

"Thank you," Arthur muttered, his face pale with anger and disappointment.

Merlin squeezed his shoulder. "She's not Morgana anymore. And if the creature pretends she is it's just a trick."

"Just a trick Merlin?" The Fossegrim's voice grew crafty. "I think not. What would you say defines who someone is? Having their feelings, their memories, and their personality? Then Morgana's right here. Inside me. I know all of her likes and dislikes, what made her tick. All of her memories are my memories." She glanced at Arthur underneath her lashes. "I know she liked to be kissed just beneath her jaw, and where the soft skin of her neck met her shoulder you'd bite down gently, whilst your fingers tangled in her hair-"

"Stop it," he said harshly, his hands fisted at his side.

"And she'd let out this little breathy moan when you-"

Arthur's sword was at her throat. "I said stop."

"Or what, my prince?" The creature replied huskily, her eyes boring into his. "What will you do to me?"

Morgana's body undulated obscenely. Arthur's eyes treacherously tracked the bead of water that trickled from her bright red lips down her neck, running down into the valley of her breasts.

"Give her back to me."

"Oh I can do much more than that, Princeling. I can make your dreams come true. I can make her love you. I can make your rival disappear. All you have to do…is free me."

He jerked back. "Never."

The creature cackled, cracking Morgana's lips into a hideous grin. "Then I'm afraid your beloved Morgana is lost to you forever. I can wait an eternity for my beloved. Somehow I don't think you have the same luxury."

Arthur slowly lowered his sword, but his knuckles were white where they were wrapped around the hilt.

"Oh dear." The water demon shot a sly look at Merlin. "I think I broke him."

Merlin tugged on Arthur's sleeve. "Come on."

Arthur cast one more look at the Fossegrim, who blew him a kiss. He stalked angrily away, her laughter haunting him down the dungeon hallways.

At the entrance to the dungeon he almost knocked Bridget and Thaniel over in his haste.

"Prince Arthur!" Bridget exclaimed. "We heard the terrible news. We're just going to see Morgana-"

"No," said Arthur abruptly. "Only myself, my father and the court physician are allowed to see her."

"And Merlin as well?" Said Thaniel angrily. "So the servants can see her but her friends can't?"

"We know she's been possessed," said Bridget, her voice wobbling slightly, interjecting before Arthur did something he'd regret to her brother. "But she's still my friend and-"

"But she's not." Arthur's voice cracked. "That thing down there is not Morgana and she's certainly not your friend."

"But perhaps if she saw us she'd be able to break the possession," argued Bridget.

"It doesn't work like that, Lady Bridget," said Merlin softly. "But Gaius is working on a solution and she'll be back to her old self in no time." He hesitated. "For the moment though it's best to listen to Arthur. Don't go down there. Remember her how she was."

Bridget's face creased in anger and grief. "I wish you'd all stop talking about her as if she'd died," she argued. "She's not dead!" Her hands balled into fists and she choked back her tears. "She's only metres from me and I can't even see her and you're all acting as though she's gone away and she's never coming back!"

She turned on her heel and ran back down the corridor. Thaniel shot them a dark look, before bowing his head sardonically and heading after his distraught sister.

* * *

"It makes no sense," said Gaius to Merlin later that evening in their chambers. "The three women who were killed have nothing in common with each other let alone Morgana, apart from the fact that they were female, and up until Morgana's possession, all the victims were village women and were drowned."

Merlin swirled his spoon round in his soup. "That book Morgana gave you to look at- the Grimacre one. He knew the legends of the Fossegrim. Maybe he can tell us why."

"Yes, but I gave it her back, and I have no idea where she would have put it." Gaius finished his meal and pushed his bowl away. "Unfortunately it is also the only copy of the book we had in the archives."

"Surely there are other books on possession though."

Gaius paused. "Actually..." He got up, moaning as his back protested and headed over to his small personal library. "Possession..."

His fingers ran over the numerous obscure titles before landing on a small black book with thick gold lettering in a language Merlin didn't know. Gaius brought it back over to the table, flipping through the tissue thin pages that had been worn by time and were now barely legible, their subject only identifiable by the illustration accompanying each inscription. "Possession by goblin...no that's no good...love spell...succubus...water sprite, are here we are."

Gaius frowned. "I'm afraid it's rather an ancient book and some of it appears to be in the language of the old religion and some of it in Latin." He frowned and peered closer. "Water demons...it gives a brief description of their habitat. And a warning. Rather too late if you're reading this book mind...and then something about a strong magical core being used to trap them...ah!" Gaius momentarily brightened before frowning again. "The part I can translate seems to mention a magically enchanted... sword I think... can be used to trap water sprites inside it. Preferably one that has been soaked in the water, where the demon lives."

"So that's good right?" Said Merlin, failing to see why Gaius appeared so unhappy. "We have a solution."

Gaius took off his glasses and stared at his pupil. "Merlin, it may have escaped your notice but we don't have a magically enchanted sword."

Merlin frowned and then a grin suddenly lit up his features. Gaius frowned knowingly at him.

"No. I absolutely forbid you to go anywhere near that lake."

"But Excalibur could be our only option."

"Merlin, if you go near that lake you could be possessed, and the last thing we need is for a highly powerful wizard to suddenly be taken over by a water demon. Think of the havoc you could cause." Gaius turned back to the text. "Besides it doesn't say how the sword is supposed to help trap the Fossegrim."

"Maybe if the person who is possessed is near it then the sprite sort of gets... sucked into it."

"Now you're simply guessing."

Merlin stood up and gathered the dishes together, ready to be washed in the kitchens. "But what if I'm right? What if this is Morgana's cure?"

"Or it could be a fool's errand and one that ends with us in an even worse predicament than before." Gaius fixed him with a look. "Promise me Merlin, that you won't go down to the lake, searching for that sword. Merlin," he repeated when the young man ignored him and continued to clatter around with the dirty dishes. "Promise me."

Merlin had backed up to the door. "Sorry Gaius, I couldn't hear you. What was that you said? Nevermind, I'll just go wash these dishes and then you can finish telling me what it was. Bye now!"

And cutting short his rambling he escaped out of the doors, still clutching the used bowls to him.

"Merlin!"

But Gaius was too old to run after him. Having escaped, Merlin slowed his run down to a gentle amble, but he still almost missed the confrontation that was going on in Uther's chambers as he walked past.

"- and I still argue that I should be allowed to see her!"

"Lady Bridget, you are a guest in this castle. And whilst you are living with us you will follow our rules." Uther's face seemed more deeply lined than it had ever been, as though he had aged rapidly in just a few short hours.

"But sire-"

"Daughter." Said Bedworth shortly. "Remember to whom you speak."

Clearly unhappy, but unable to defy both her father and the king, Bridget fell silent. Merlin edged closer to the door and spied Thaniel in the king's chamber's as well.

Bedworth laid a hand on his friend's shoulders, his voice unusually quiet but comforting. "If we presume that a water demon is the thing that has been killing the people, then is it this one or another one- this Fossegrim's beloved?"

Uther scrubbed his face tiredly with his hand. "Gaius said he couldn't be sure. All we know is that there are two of them and we have one. Perhaps they have both been killing the women, perhaps merely one. I am as much at a loss as you."

"Can we use the Fossegrim as bait?" Said Thaniel, his arms folded, his face still bruised from the tournament, nose crooked in the middle where Arthur had broken it, the swelling only now beginning to come down. "Surely this demon's beloved will come after her?"

"Into the dungeons of Camelot?" Uther shook his head incredulously. "They'd have to be highly stupid, or supremely confident in their abilities of deception and manipulation to get in so far without being detected."

"Or very much in love," said Bridget quietly.

The voices grew quieter, and straining to hear anything Merlin left. He'd almost made it to the kitchens when he stopped and headed back to Arthur's rooms.

He hesitated at the door, before knocking quietly. For a while there was no answer before Arthur's voice called for him to enter. One glance at his face and it was obvious that he'd been crying. Merlin, however, was kind enough not to say anything.

He put the dishes down on a table and walked over to where the prince was standing by the fireplace.

"We'll figure this out." Merlin rested his hand consolingly on Arthur's arm. "She'll be fine."

Arthur said nothing.

"We'll get her back."

Arthur remained silent. He leant against the mantelpiece and stared into the fire.

* * *

Bridget woke up sometime in the middle of the night.

The handle of her door was rattling.

Someone was trying to get in.

She watched in slowly dawning horror as the knob twisted, and the door creaked open. She reached for the heavy candlestick on her bedside table, gripping it in her hands. A shadowy figure slipped though the door, but she couldn't make out anything else in the dark.

The door clicked shut.

All she could hear was her heavy breathing as the figure glided closer. It was cloaked, she realised, that was why she couldn't see who it was.

"Sh-show yourself," she stammered as she inched higher up the bed.

The hooded figure glided even closer until it was at the foot of her bed. Bridget slid out of the bedclothes and stood on her bed, the candlestick brandished in her hands.

The figure pulled the hood of it's cloak off and grinned at her.

"Hello, Bri."

"Morgana?"

* * *

**You know the drill by now folks. Read and review! This is my antidote to Season 3.**

**ArMor is now a beautiful but doomed ship, and I'm standing on the deck waving as we go down. Come and join me?**


	7. Of Dungeons & Demons

**Title:** Drowning In You

**Rating:** T

**Pairing: **Arthur/Morgana.

**Summary:** Someone is drowning young women in Camelot. With no motive and no suspects, Morgana must work out who the murderer is before she becomes the next victim…

* * *

Bridget raised the candlestick threateningly and tightened her grip on it. "Come any closer and I'll let you have it and then I'll scream and the guards will come running and you'll be back in the dungeons before you can say Uther Pendragon-"

Morgana held up her hands innocently. "Bridget, stop babbling and put the candlestick down. You'll put someone's eye out with it." She took off her cloak and laid it on the end of the bed before casually combing out her hair and lighting some candles. Gradually the room became bathed in a dim warm glow.

Bridget's stance drooped ever so slightly. "Then you haven't come to kill me?"

"Kill you?" Morgana laughed mirthlessly and took the empty seat at Bridget's dressing table. She stretched her legs out and then casually crossed them, ladylike, at the ankles. "Why on earth would I do that?"

Bridget faltered, unsure if she should really be giving Morgana reasons why she should murder her. "Because...you're possessed by the homicidal spirit of a water demon and that's normally what they like to do?"

"I'm not possessed."

"That's exactly what you would say if you were." Bridget shook her head incredulously. "I don't even know why I'm having this conversation with you; I should be screaming for the guards right now."

"But you aren't and you won't, which is why I chose you. I knew you'd hear me out."

"Hear you out?" Bridget let the hand holding the candlestick drop to her side and she sat back down on the bed. "Morgana, what _exactly_ is going on?"

Morgana sighed and reached into the bodice of her dress, pulling out a crumpled bit of paper. "It's a long story." She handed the note to Bridget, who took it suspiciously but said nothing. "Two nights ago I received this note in a bolt of cloth."

"A trap?" Asked Bridget, her lips pursed.

"Obviously. But I couldn't just ignore the note; I needed to know who had written it, why they'd sent it to me, what they wanted me for." Morgana smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. "I thought I could solve the mystery by myself- after all, I had suggested that Fossegrim could be behind the murders, when everyone else believed it to be a human. This way perhaps I could prove my theory and stop any more from happening."

"Morgana, even to me that was a stupid plan. You could have been killed or..." Bridget faltered. "Well, look what happened to you!"

"And I say again, I am not possessed." Morgana looked at her pointedly. "Will you let me carry on or do you have any more unhelpful comments to make?"

Chastened, Bridget nodded, inching further down the bed to listen.

"Thank you. As I was saying, I knew I had to sneak out of the castle and find out what was happening. But I knew it was a risky plan. I knew I could be caught, or killed, or something as equally unpleasant. So I made a duplicate of myself."

"Sorry?" Said Bridget. "You made a duplicate of yourself? What? _How_?"

"I used a spell in _Grimacre's Folktales_," said Morgana quietly.

Bridget exploded. "You did _what_?"

"Shh! Someone will hear you!"

"No, I will not be shushed!" Bridget retorted furiously. "You did magic under Uther's very nose! How stupid are you? What if you'd been caught?" She threw her hands up in the air. "Goodness, you've become incredibly foolish since you've been here. Does the king know that his ward is the village idiot?"

Morgana scowled. "Thank you _mother_ but I don't need the lecture. I know how dangerous it was but I didn't have a choice."

"Yes you did, you could have chosen not to go!" Bridget rolled her eyes. "I don't even know why I'm bothering to scold you, it's not like you listened to me anyway. It's not like anyone listens to me at all."

Morgana pouted. "Have you been socialising too much with Gaius? I don't remember you being this nagging before."

"And I don't remember you being this jeopardy friendly," Bridget retorted, "but we all have our faults. Now, carry on with your story and let us hope your abysmal lack of consideration for your own wellbeing improves." She narrowed her eyes. "What exactly did this spell involve?"

Morgana refused to be cowed. "A bit of sage, some antimony, nightshade, a black candle, and a few strands of my hair."

Bridget's eyes narrowed and she'd leapt from the bed to snatch at Morgana's hands before her friend had time to react. In Bridget's unnaturally strong grip there was no way to hide the angry red wound running down the palm of Morgana's milk white left hand. "Blood magic." Bridget shook her head in disgust. "I knew there was more to it. Morgana, that kind of magic is extremely dangerous."

"More dangerous than practising it in the first place?"

"That isn't funny. People have died from doing that kind of practical magic. My mother..." Bridget's voice tailed off at the memory, her throat closing up. She took a deep breath and fixed her eyes on Morgana's. "You should have known better."

Morgana sobered. "I'm sorry Bridget, I really am, but what's done is done and I can't take it back." She paused and there was an awkward silence. "Can I have my hands back now?"

Bridget let go wordlessly and reached for her woollen shawl, wrapping it around her shoulders, the cold air of the room finally beginning to seep into her bones. She resettled herself on the edge on the bed. "So you did the spell," she said quietly. "And I'm presuming everything went according to plan."

Morgana nodded. "But I had a further precaution. I knew that Fossegrim lure their victims with their songs so I put candle wax in my ears and the duplicate and I went down to the lake. Well, I say _we_ went down to the lake- I hid in the trees to watch and she went down to wait til midnight."

"And when midnight came?"

Morgana stilled; her face suddenly pale and serious. "This isn't going to be easy for you to hear Bri, and if there was any other way of sparing you from the truth then I hope you know I'd take it."

"You're scaring me, Morgana. What did you see?"

There was no way of saying it kindly, no way to soften the blow and Morgana closed her eyes briefly, trying to screw up the courage to tell her friend a truth that would wound her so deeply.

"Morgana, whatever it is you saw, just tell me."

"I saw Thaniel."

There was a horrible silence.

Morgana swallowed. "Bridget, I know this is hard to take in-"

"Hard to take in? No, it's unbelievable is what it is," scoffed Bridget, caught somewhere between laughing and crying. "Why would my brother be down at the lake in the middle of the night?"

The implications didn't take long to sink in and when they did Bridget's face paled before she shook herself and turned her grief into logic, trying to find a reason to explicate her brother.

"This is all some horrible mistake. You obviously couldn't have seen Thaniel there."

"Bri, I know what I saw. He was there, plain as I see you now."

"Then perhaps it was just an awful coincidence!" She began to clutch at straws. "He was down there trying to clear his head- perhaps he couldn't sleep- and just happened to be in the same place as your mysterious note sender."

"Bri, listen to yourself. It makes no sense!"

Bridget's expression was both terrible and wondrous as she grappled to hold onto the perfect image she had of her older brother and disregard the new reality Morgana was throwing in her face.

"No! _You_ make no sense. Thaniel wouldn't kill anyone. He's not capable of it." She laughed scornfully. "Besides Gaius said the bruises on the victims are made by a woman."

"They are."

Momentarily wrong footed Bridget blinked. "Sorry?"

Morgana sighed. "Thaniel is possessed by a Fossegrim. He was the one who sent me the note to lure me down to the lake so his water demon lover could drown me and possess my body. She did. She's the one who's possessed the duplicate me in the dungeon. She's the one drowning those women whilst he watches."

Bridget stared at her in appalled silence before a crazed smile broke out on her face and she began to laugh. "Thaniel. Possessed?" she managed to choke out as she laughed. She clutched at her sides, shaking, as tears rolled down her cheeks, hysterics taking her.

Morgana slapped her.

Bridget stopped abruptly, but the tears still slid down her face, leaving wet splodges on her nightgown when they landed. "He can't," she said quietly. "He just can't. It's absolute nonsense."

"Bri, think about it, it all fits perfectly." Morgana sighed. "Suddenly he has a talent for music when before we all knew he was tone deaf. He's charming, funny and painfully handsome- and if we're both brutally honest Thaniel was none of those when I met him last."

"People change."

"That drastically? It's like he's another person now, because he _is_ another person now."

Some of Bridget's old fire momentarily came back. She scowled at Morgana. "Forgive me for not thinking that my brother's sudden good looks, charm and musical talent were because he was possessed by a psychopathic water sprite."

"Then what did you think?"

Bridget threw her hands up. "I don't know! I thought perhaps he'd bought a glamour to disguise it. That's how my cousin Susannah married her husband. I thought maybe he'd found a spell to help." She frowned. "It's not easy having ogre blood in your veins. I wasn't about to judge him for trying to make himself more attractive." She slumped down on the bed. "So my brother is possessed by a water demon and he tried to get you to be possessed by another. Why? And why drown all those previous women? Why possess your duplicate and not them?"

Morgana shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. They didn't explain and I left to sneak back to the castle soon after."

Bridget's eyes suddenly narrowed. "But how do I know any of this is true? You could just be a very good liar and this is some elaborate plot you've concocted to gain my trust, discredit my brother and sneak you out of the castle."

"Bri, if I wanted to sneak out of the castle I could have done that without breaking into your room in the middle of the night and telling you a garbled story of demons and duplicates. I could have just gone and no-one would have been any the wiser." Morgana paused. "But I do need you to do something for me."

"Hah!" crowed Bridget cynically. "I knew there was a catch. There always is." Her expression was fierce. "I'm not killing anyone for you, or helping you escape-"

"I don't need you to kill anyone." Morgana interrupted. "I just need you to fetch _Grimacre's Folktales_ from under my bed for me."

"Why?"

"The book mentions something about how to kill Fossegrim. If we get the book we can destroy the water demon that's inhabiting the body of the duplicate in the dungeon, and perhaps it will cure your brother too." She took a breath and gazed at Bridget seriously. "But I can't go. It was dangerous enough for me to sneak in here without anyone seeing me. I can hardly go wandering the corridors to my rooms and back. So that's why I need you. There'll be far less questions asked if anyone sees you, or catches you in my rooms, than if anyone sees me."

"And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free," quoted Bridget softly. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "You really are telling the truth. You really are my Morgana."

It wasn't a question.

"Bri?"

She pasted on a smile. "I'm fine. Honestly. It's just a lot to take in." She choked on a sob, a funny little half smile crossing her features. "You know, today he was going to take me riding. Just the two of us. Sibling bonding and all that." She let out a sad laugh that sounded more like a sigh. "It would have been such a lovely day. And now, now everything is ruined. Where do we even go from here?"

"I need that book," Morgana gently reminded her. "We can still save him, Bri. You can still have your brother back."

"Of course. I'll go and get it for you." Bridget got up as if in a dream. She turned softly at the door. "Morgana? I'm...I'm glad you felt you could trust me."

"You're my best friend. Of course I trust you."

Still Bridget paused, her hand on the door latch, wavering as if struggling with something hideous within her. When she finally spoke her voice was rough with regret. "Morgana...you say we can get my brother back. But if I couldn't even tell he was gone...what kind of sister does that make me?"

But she'd gone before Morgana could even reply.

* * *

Keeping to the shadows and hurrying along the darkened corridors Bridget soon found herself in front of Morgana's chambers. There had been one brief, heart stopping moment when she'd heard footsteps coming towards her, seen the shadow of a hooded figure on the corridor wall and known sudden panic, her heart leaping into her throat. But she'd ducked into a doorway, closed her eyes, held her breath and the footsteps had passed and she'd continued on.

But now she tried the handle to her friend's rooms and when the door gave no resistance pushed it open and quietly slipped inside. There she made immediately for the bed and flattened herself to the floor, thrusting her plump body under the frame and wriggling inch by inch until she found the floor flagstone Morgana had identified. One sharp shove later and her arm was stretching into the hole, fingers questing over the numerous small trifling items in there until they closed over smooth leather bindings and she drew out the book.

Replacing the tile and shuffling her way out from under the bed she dusted herself off, debated hiding the book under her nightgown, decided against it after calculating its size and weight and settled for holding it close to her chest, with her cloak wrapped around herself.

Once more closing the door behind her and hurrying down the corridor she was almost -almost!- at her own chambers when suddenly a figure loomed before her. This time however there were no convenient doorways. No other hallways to turn down, no wall hanging with which to hide behind, not even a suit of armour or statue behind which to secrete herself.

With nowhere to go and nowhere to hide she mustered her courage and composed her expression into what she hoped was one of innocence.

Of course it would have to be Arthur who was walking straight towards her, his face grim.

"Bridget. What are you doing up at this hour?"

"I could ask you the very same question," she shot back, shifting the book behind her back and fingering her cloak closer to her body.

Arthur deflated. "I'm sorry, that came out all wrong. You look troubled. Is anything wrong?"

Bridget let out a bitter laugh. "The whole world. Have you ever had one of those moments when your whole perception of something, your whole life even, is suddenly unequivocally changed and there is nothing you can ever do to change it back?" At Arthur's blank look she sighed and shook her head. "Nevermind. Why are you up? What thoughts could possibly trouble the Prince of Camelot?"

"I couldn't sleep," he admitted. "All I could think about was Morgana with that thing controlling her." He ran his fingers through his hair tiredly. "I have this feeling…like I'm never going to see her again."

Bridget softened her tone at the look of barely hidden distress on his face. "It'll be alright, Arthur. Morgana's strong, she'll fight this thing and you _will_ have her back. Don't give upon her. She wouldn't give up on you."

He smiled wanly but didn't contradict her. "Come, I'll walk you back to your rooms."

Her eyes widened, her heart starting to beat rapidly. "Oh it's no trouble; I can find my own way back. I have an excellent sense of direction."

"I insist."

His tone brooked no argument and there was nothing she could do but agree graciously. "Very well."

They walked in silence to her chambers, both seemingly lost in their own thoughts, and it was with a sense of relief but also trepidation when they finally reached her door.

"Goodnight, Arthur. Thank you for accompanying me back." She stood at the threshold and gave him her most winning smile. In return he simply nodded tiredly.

"Bridget."

She waited until he was far down the other end of the corridor before quickly slipping into the room and then slumping against the door once it was closed.

Morgana poked her head out from Bridget's closet and upon seeing her friend smiled in relief, stepping out and sitting back down on the dressing table chair. "I heard voices outside the door. I thought it was you but I couldn't be sure."

"Arthur finally decided to enter the age of chivalry exactly when I didn't want him to," Bridget explained exasperatedly. "Honestly, of all the nights to be gallant! Anyway, I have the book for you." She proffered the text to Morgana and then took off her cloak as her friend began to eagerly flip through the pages. "Do you know what exactly you're looking for?"

"It's halfway down the third page on Fossegrim, I think it talks about the act of naming and then it launches into a-"

There was a loud knock on the door and Arthur walked in.

"Arthur!"

"Sorry to just barge in like this Bridget, but about what you were saying before..." He trailed off as he took in the room and its occupants.

"Morgana?"

Arthur's shocked gaze turned from one woman to the other. For a moment no-one said anything, all three frozen in disbelief.

"I take back what I said about him being gallant," murmured Bridget, almost to herself. "I could have been undressing! Since when do men walk into a lady's chambers at night without their permission?"

Arthur seemed to be struggling to take in the situation, but his expression was gradually growing more and more stormy. Finally he found his voice. "Since when does a lady harbour a prisoner of the crown in her own room?"

Morgana cursed under her breath and stood, holding out her hands. "Arthur, I can explain-"

"There's no need for explanations." Arthur's hand went for his sword as the two women looked at each other. "You're in league with each other. Bridget helped you escape and now you're both plotting to continue on in your murderous little spree."

"Arthur, that's not what happened. I-"

"Shut up demon," he growled at her. "You have no right to speak to me. And you," he turned his sword to Bridget. "I knew I was right about you. Morgana wouldn't believe me, but I knew something was off about you. All those convenient disappearances of yours. You're just as bad as the demon beside you."

Bridget tried to reason with him. "Arthur, I can see why you'd think that but this is not what it looks like."

"Right," he replied drily. "You and the demon possessing Morgana were just exchanging hair tips and fashion advice- oof!"

Bridget had thrown her cloak over Arthur's head. Taking advantage of his momentary confusion she shoved him hard so that he landed heavily against the opposite wall. Dazed he sat up, pulling the cloak from his head, his eyes burning with anger.

Bridget turned to Morgana. "Run!"

Morgana grabbed the book and dashed out of the door after Bridget, feet pounding down the corridor, heart thumping in time with her feet. There was a loud crash and Arthur stumbled out the door after them, his sword in his hand.

"Stop! Come back here!"

"Not bloody likely," muttered Bridget under her breath, lifting the skirt of her nightgown so she wouldn't trip. "If Father could see me now he'd have a fit. '_This is not ladylike behaviour_-"

"Bridget, shut up and run!" breathed Morgana as they dashed down another corridor and rounded a corner. Almost tripping on a loose flagstone the two women hurtled down the long corridor, passing Morgana's bedroom on their way, before stumbling round another corner into another darkened passageway. Slumping against one of the walls they listened, but Arthur's footsteps seemed distant and muffled.

"Any other ideas or are you just planning on running all night?" said Morgana, the book in her arms growing heavier with each step she ran.

"I hadn't really thought this far ahead," Bridget admitted, breathing heavily. "Though now you mention it..."

But Arthur's pounding steps had come dangerously close again and they were off once more, Morgana taking the lead this time, Bridget close behind her, Arthur hard on their heels, seemingly relentless in his pursuit.

And then suddenly they were in a brightly lit corridor, shafts of moonlight sliding in through the castle windows lighting up the gleaming suits of armour that lined the walls.

Bridget grabbed a sword from one of the suited, silent figures.

"What are you doing?" hissed Morgana. "You can't think you're going to fight him?"

"You may have noticed but I am not built for running!" Bridget argued back. "And when he eventually catches up with me I'd like to have something to even the odds slightly. He's not going to harm you when he thinks there's a chance he can get you back, but he doesn't love me. I need something to defend myself with."

Arthur appeared around the corner.

"Time to run again!" Bridget pulled Morgana after her.

This time, however, the corridor stretched the full length of the castle. With no corners to dodge round, Arthur continued to close in whilst the book in Morgana's arms grew heavier and heavier.

Suddenly she tripped, her foot catching on a slightly raised cobble. Her grip was lost. The book slid one way, Morgana another. She stumbled to her hands and knees as Bridget turned.

"Keep running!" Morgana yelled, even as she turned back, her hands stretching for the book. Her fingers closed round it and she clutched it to her chest.

Then Arthur's sword tip was at her throat.

Struggling to keep her breath in check, bosom heaving, and tasting blood in her mouth from having bitten her tongue when she fell, she didn't dare look up.

Arthur's voice was rough with fury and longing. "Stand up. Slowly."

Gradually, oh so gradually she rose from her knees in front of him, ever conscious of the blade hovering at the delicate skin above her clavicle. And then she raised her head. His storm blue eyes met her soft green and for a moment they simply stood there, neither moving, neither breathing, simply looking at each other.

Then a sword appeared from out of the shadows behind Arthur. His eyes widened imperceptibly as Bridget emerged silently behind them, her own sword digging painfully into his back.

"I thought I told you to keep going," said Morgana.

Bridget simply flashed a softly amused smile at her. "I told you," she replied gently, "I'm not built for running." Her voice turned hard and from the wince on Arthur's faced Morgana knew she'd nudged her sword sharply against Arthur's back. "Now let her go before I run you through."

Arthur's voice was hard and flat. "Stab me and I won't hesitate to kill her."

"You love her. You wouldn't dare."

"I loved Morgana," he corrected without emotion. "This is not Morgana; the demon in her body makes a mockery of everything she stood for." His voice was firm. "She'd understand."

Bridget frowned and pushed her sword a little harder, so that a small groan came from Arthur. He gritted his teeth. "Perhaps you'd like to test out your theory then."

Unsure now of his actions Bridget loosened her grip on her weapon, easing up the pressure of her sword against the prince's spine. "Then it looks like we're at a stalemate."

"There is one way we can settle this," said Morgana quietly. She fixed her eyes on Arthur. "Take me to the dungeons."

"What?" Arthur's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why would you want to return there?"

"Because I didn't come from there in the first place," she explained gently. "I'm the real Morgana; the Morgana in the dungeons is merely a copy of me possessed by the water demon. It's not me and it never was."

"You expect me to believe that?"

At his disbelieving look she swallowed but carried on. "You have nothing to lose. If we go down and there's no-one there you can lock me up. If you see the Fossegrim locked up _then_ will you believe I'm not a water demon, and this really is me?"

"Perhaps," he agreed grudgingly.

* * *

It was a sombre party that headed down to the dungeons, their weapons drawn, a wary truce making them move slowly. At the dungeon entrance Morgana hesitated.

"Second thoughts?"

"I need the keys," she murmured. Reluctantly Arthur removed them with his free hand from his belt and passed them over. She took them wordlessly and selecting the right key, slipped it into the lock and opened the door. The gate swung open silently and then they were in, slipping down the dark passageways lit only by flickering firelit torches.

"Which way?"

Arthur frowned. "You don't know?"

"Of course not, I wasn't here when you locked her...me...it," Morgana struggled for the right pronoun, "up. You'll have to lead us."

"And I haven't been allowed to see her," interjected Bridget. "So I don't know."

Arthur snorted. "And have my enemies at my back? No chance. From here we go left. Next right. Three cells down." He smiled smugly. "Nice try."

Morgana rolled her eyes but followed his directions even as Bridget jabbed him in the back accidentally on purpose with her sword. "Sorry," she muttered, her voice deliberately light.

A muscle ticked in Arthur's jaw. "Poke me one more time with your sword, Bridget, and so help me I will not be responsible for my actions."

"I'm scared. Really." Bridget shivered mockingly. "I'm quaking in my nightgown."

"Will you two stop bickering?" snapped Morgana. "We're here." She located the key for the cell and unlocked the door, pushing it open.

Arthur motioned with his head, his sword firmly trained on her. "Ladies first," he murmured cynically.

Shrugging and still clutching the book to her Morgana slipped past the cell door. The door slammed shut behind her.

Somebody screamed.

"Morgana?" Arthur's face blanched white. He threw the cell door open and launched himself inside, sword raised, eyes blazing.

"Peace, Arthur," said Morgana quietly beside him. She motioned to the cringing figure chained against the wall, her face screwed up in horror, her eyes glaring hatred as she stared at Morgana and her book. "She just doesn't like me very much." She stroked the book. "She knows what this can do to her."

Arthur did a double take, his eyes sliding between the Morgana who had flattened her body against the side of the dungeon, her face set in a grimace, and the Morgana who stood clutching her book, one eyebrow raised at him.

"There's...there's two of you," he finally spoke, his voice slow and bewildered.

"I did tell you I wasn't her."

"Then who is she?"

"A copy, a duplicate Morgana, possessed by the Fossegrim. It's a long story." She smiled softly at him. "It's really me, Arthur."

He hesitated, still unsure.

She rolled her eyes. "I can say it slower for you if you'd like. Or use smaller words." She crossed her arms. "Diagrams? Interpretative dance? Even Merlin would have got it by now."

He resheathed his sword even as smile flickered on his lips. "I should have known. Only you insult me so nicely."

"Well only you would take so long to grasp the concept that there are two of us."

Arthur's eyes took on a dangerously heated glint. "Two of you. Just think of the possibilities."

"Puzzled to sleazy in less than five seconds." Morgana sighed in mock disgust. "I think that's a new record for you."

At the added insult, Arthur's fingers curled round her cheek and a fierce smile suddenly broke out across his face, something like untamed joy flashing across his features. "Morgana. Shut up."

And then he pulled her into a fierce hug, burying his face in her hair. She clutched him equally as hard, feeling the fine trembling of his muscles as he held her to him and sighed. Unnoticed, the book dropped to the floor beside them. He pulled away to run his hands over her jaw, through her hair and down over her shoulders as if he couldn't quite believe she was there, a kind of wonder in his eyes.

"I thought I'd lost you."

"I can tell," she replied softly, her own fingers tracing his brow, his cheeks, his lips. He closed his eyes, savouring her touch, and when he opened them again something subtle shifted between them.

"Morgana. I-"

"Sorry to interrupt this heart-warming reunion," cut in Bridget dryly as she entered the room, drawing the dungeon door shut after her. "But someone's coming."

True enough the sound of footsteps could be heard echoing down the corridor. Silently the three of them slipped into the shadows behind the door, Arthur unsheathing his sword once more, Bridget's own weapon raised.

The door handle turned and a figure stepped through.

Arthur stepped back in surprise, lowering his sword. "Merlin! What are you doing here?"

The manservant folded his arms. "Following you! You think you can run round over half the castle and not have anyone notice? You weren't exactly quiet. What're you all doing in here?" He fixed his eyes on Morgana and then back again at the woman in shackles. He scratched his head. "There's two of them now?"

"She's a copy, I'm the real one, I'll explain later," Morgana said hurriedly. "For now, I know who's killing the women."

Bridget suddenly clamped a hand round Morgana's mouth.

* * *

**Please read and review! **

**I've been absolutely overwhelmed with the response to this story and it always makes me so proud when I receive positive comments from you guys! It's the best feeling ever so a massive thank you to you all! ****I just hope you'll all continue with me on this ArMor journey. A journey where the end is beginning to close in. And not everyone is going to survive.**

**(And no. A massive author's note does not get you out of reviewing this chapter.)**


	8. Explanations & Excalibur

**Title:** Drowning In You

**Rating:** T

**Pairing: **Arthur/Morgana.

**Summary:** Someone is drowning young women in Camelot. With no motive and no suspects, Morgana must work out who the murderer is before she becomes the next victim…

* * *

"Bridget?" Arthur's hand rested on his sword.

Bridget shook her head, put her finger to her lips and then silently pointed upwards.

More footsteps were coming down the dungeon stairs.

"What do we do?" hissed Merlin.

Morgana glided noiselessly over to the cell door, picking up her fallen book along the way. Counting down silently she waited until the footsteps grew louder, til they were at the door.

Suddenly she thrust the door open.

"No! Run!" the chained demon screamed. But it was too late.

With one hand Morgana grabbed at the person yanking them inside. Her other hand swung the book at their head. There was a distinct thud as the weighty tome collided with a skull.

Thaniel collapsed to the floor.

"That's what we do," said Morgana as Merlin crossed his arms. "Now, help me chain him up."

"And they say reading's meant to be good for you," quipped Arthur.

Morgana shot him a look, even as she dragged the young man over to the wall beside her duplicate, cuffing his hands securely. The demon Morgana sunk down beside Thaniel as far as her chains would let her. She shot Morgana a filthy look, before softly running her hands over Thaniel's face and pressing kisses to his eyelids.

"How long do you think he'll be out for?" asked Bridget softly.

"Not long enough," Morgana replied, even as Thaniel's eyes began to flicker open. "It's a side effect of the possession. The demon not only enhances your physical appearance but also your health."

"What are you saying?" said Arthur, even as Thaniel stood up slowly, hands behind him sliding up the damp dungeon wall to help push himself up. "He's immortal?"

"No, not immortal. Just a damn sight harder to kill than a normal man," Thaniel smirked and touched his head. "You certainly leave an impression, Morgana."

His eyes wandered lazily from one Morgana, chained at his side, to the other Morgana stood beside Arthur, the book clutched to her chest. Something flashed in his eyes as though he'd suddenly worked everything out. He gave Morgana an appraising stare and then a small smile, as though she'd just surprised him.

And oddly, as though he was proud of her.

"So…" said Merlin in the awkward silence that followed. "Now what?"

"Well, an explanation of what the hell is going on would be nice," said Bridget quietly. She fixed her eyes on Thaniel. "What have you done to my brother?"

"So you've finally noticed? Don't you like the improvements, little sister?" Thaniel smiled but it didn't reach his eyes, the pupils sharpening, and his gaze growing cold and predatory.

"You have no right to call me that," snapped Bridget, her voice thick with fury and anguish. "What have you done to Thaniel?" When he said nothing, Bridget drew her blade and held the tip to his throat. "What have you done to him? Tell me."

"Very well." Thaniel's lips press together into a thin line. "Three years ago I drowned your brother."

Bridget's arm remained firm, even as tears slipped down her face. Morgana clutched her book tighter to herself as Merlin shifted uneasily at the revelation. Bridget appeared unable to speak, her eyes burning bright with furious tears so it was Arthur who asked the next question.

"Why?"

"Why did I drown him?" Thaniel gave a gaelic shrug, managing to look elegant and composed even in chains and with a blade to his throat. "Why does a bear protect her cubs or bees collect honey? Instinct. It's what Fossegrim do. We lure humans to the water, we drown them, we lure more. In a millennia of existence it is how it's always been."

"But why possess him?"

Only now did Thaniel show some agitation. His eyebrows drew close together, and a faint line appeared in his forehead as he frowned. "Your brother had magic."

"You're a liar and a bad one," said Bridget, gritting her teeth. "Thaniel wasn't a wizard; he hadn't got a magical bone in his body."

"But he had got magical blood." Thaniel laughed as Bridget blanched, her face draining of all colour. "Troll blood contains powerful magics, and the magic still runs thick in your veins despite the dilution of several centuries of generations."

"Sorry," interrupted Merlin, "but what does Thaniel being the descendant of a troll have to do with you possessing him?"

Thaniel looked at Merlin as though he'd just dribbled down his shirtfront.

"Magical cores," explained Morgana quickly before tensions heightened even further. "Grimacre mentions it briefly," she added at Arthur's look of surprise, touching the leather bindings of the book she held. "Magical begins (wizards, trolls, goblins etc) have a magical core at their essence. When a Fossegrim kills a normal person the spirit leaves the body and the body drowns. When a Fossegrim kills a magical being then the spirit leaves the body just the same. Unfortunately however, with the spirit gone the magical core left behind will lock onto the closest spirit to it in order to replace the one that has gone."

"Wait a minute," interrupted Merlin. "Uther's burnt hundreds of wizards and witches at the stake. If magical cores seek replacement spirits why haven't there been cases of possession before? There's always a crowd at an execution. The wizard should have been able to steal any soul and carry on living."

Morgana shook her head. "For the magical core to lock onto another spirit you have to be in extremely close proximity."

Thaniel smirked. "Within kissing distance actually," he corrected as his eyes met Morgana's. Though she met his gaze squarely, her fingers tightened on the spine of the book. "Grimacre of course doesn't phrase it like that. He was far more interested in the monsters than the maidens."

"No-one gets that close to the flames," Morgana said shortly, "so that's why all of Uther's victims die. The Fossegrim is much closer to it's victims on the other hand. The demon gets sucked into the body involuntarily possessing it."

Thaniel nodded sharply and turned back to Bridget whose tears had dried, leaving only red rims around her eyes and tracks down her cheeks. "As your brother's spirit left his body I suddenly found myself in it instead. It was extremely inconvenient."

"You bastard, I ought to kill you right now," Bridget hissed, her knuckles round her sword clenched white. "How dare you. Inconvenient? You killed my brother and all you can say is that is was_ inconvenient_?"

Thaniel watched her impassively. "It was. I was stuck. I tried to drown the body again, but you can't drown a Fossegrim, consequently neither can you drown a Fossegrim inhabiting a human body. I couldn't get back. I couldn't separate from the body." He leaned casually back against the wall, Bridget's blade following him. "Did you know humans are made up of almost seventy percent water? I didn't mind really. I had all his memories. He lived a good life. I made him more handsome, more popular. And I could have been content. Perhaps." He turned to Morgana's magical duplicate and laced his fingers with hers. She smiled lovingly back at him. "But a life on land meant leaving my beloved behind. I couldn't return to her. And she couldn't return to me."

"Spare us the melodrama," sad Arthur caustically. "So what, you just started killing off young women in revenge for lost love?"

"And what do you know of love, Princeling?" sneered Thaniel. "You know nothing. I have been with my beloved for centuries, and will be for centuries more."

Bridget inched the blade slightly deeper into the skin of his throat. A thin trickle of blood ran down his neck. "Not if I have anything to do with it. Now get on with the story."

"My beloved was prepared to sacrifice her life in the water to inhabit a body. To join me in the mortal world. And it was easy to lure a human girl down to the water." Thaniel's expression turned dark. "But it failed. Time and time again. She could not inhabit a body. And I realised these were all mortal women without magic. We needed to find a witch. Someone strong enough that their body could contain a spirit. Someone with a strong magical essence."

He fixed his eyes accusingly on Arthur. "Not an easy feat when the king has forbidden all magic on pain of death. It's incredibly hard to find a magical being when no-one admits to being one, let alone performs magic."

He turned back to Morgana. "Then your letter came with its interesting postscript. I thought perhaps I could find someone in a new location. My beloved travelled from the sea up to the river to the lake here. We tried a girl before we came to the castle. But again she failed. And then I found you."

Thaniel's expression turned sly. "You were admittedly beautiful…by mortal standards anyway. And then I remembered how we used to play together when we were children, you, my sister-" he winced as Bridget's blade nicked his throat deeper, "and myself. And the terrible dreams you used to have. Your nightmares." His eyes fixed on her face. "Visions of the future."

He laughed as Morgana shifted uncomfortably and Arthur stilled beside her. "Oh so you hadn't told them. Looks like it's revelations all round."

"Get on with it," Morgana spat.

"As a seer you were perfect, your magical core ripe for possession." He frowned. "And then they found her."

"The woman you'd drowned before you got here. You'd forgotten to dispose of the body," guessed Merlin. "The day you arrived and the knights put the woman in the Great Hall. Lord Bedworth was shocked, but you displayed no emotion." He nodded as the past slowly began to make sense. "Of course you didn't care, you'd killed her."

"The night before we'd stopped in a village at one of the inns. You went for a walk and said you'd got caught in a rain shower," Bridget realised in sudden horror. "That's when you killed her."

"Disposal was trickier here -at home the corpses had simply vanished into the depths of the sea," Thaniel explained. "It was unfortunate she was found as Uther banned any trips to the lake and I had no way of getting you down there that didn't seem suspicious. So as I stayed here I learnt more about you."

He smiled, but it was a smile that hinted at personal knowledge, of intimate detail. Morgana repressed a shiver.

"You were strong, vivacious, prepared to break rules and you were curious. You couldn't let an injustice lie. I knew if I could intrigue you enough you would come. So I turned that dead body to my advantage."

"You deliberately killed women you knew had no magic, so that when you wrote that note I'd be intrigued enough to go down to the lake and be possessed," Morgana said flatly. "That's callous, even for a water demon."

"Callous and brilliant. And it worked, did it not? You came and you were possessed. I had my beloved with me again." He smiled down at the women chained to his side and touched her cheek. "I knew we could legitimately go back to the castle, announce we were to marry and my beloved and I could be together without anyone suspecting a thing."

"Merlin rather spoiled that plan though when he spotted my wet sleeves," said the duplicate Morgana, leaning her head against Thaniel's shoulder and glaring at Merlin. "I should have been planning my wedding now, not rotting in a dungeon."

"And yet, somehow I'm not sorry," Merlin snapped back.

"But that still doesn't explain why there are two of you, Morgana," said Arthur suddenly, beside her.

"I must admit, I am intrigued," said Thaniel, silkily. Knowingly. Morgana shot him a look of pure spite, even as Arthur turned to look at her. "What have you been up to behind everyone's back?"

She couldn't quite meet his eyes and her explanation when it came was addressed to Thaniel only. Her words were short and sharp, bitter and acidic like lemons at the back of her throat.

"I received your note to meet you by the lake. I knew it was a trap. So I used a spell to make a duplicate of myself and sent it down to the water. She was easily possessed- you needed a strong magical core and my duplicate was made solely of it." Morgana finally dragged her gaze from the floor to look at the prince. His expression was inscrutable and she sighed softly. "I'm sorry, Arthur."

"But which bit are you sorry for, I wonder. Sorry you have magic? Sorry you didn't tell him?" Thaniel smirked. "Or sorry you were found out?" He crossed his arms and appraised her approvingly. "It seems we're very much alike. Both of us rule breakers, both prepared to take risks for great gains."

"She is nothing like you," ground out Arthur.

Thaniel laughed scornfully. "She's more like me than you'd care to admit. Would you have broken your father's precious laws about magic to discover the truth? I doubt it, Princeling."

"I am my own person," interrupted Morgana, "and still in the room. So don't talk about me as though I'm not."

Thaniel laughed scornfully. "You can deny you're like me if it makes you feel better, but you can't deny you were the one who encouraged my actions."

"What?" Morgana's gaze grew incredulous. "When?"

"The music room. We were alone, I seduced you with my music," Thaniel smirked as Arthur's expression grew dark. "And you said nothing should stand in the way of love."

"One, I didn't mean killing people and two, you didn't seduce me."

Thaniel smirked but said nothing even as Arthur's grip on the hilt of his sword suddenly grew very tight.

"I hate to keep repeating myself," said Merlin as the atmosphere grew thick, "but now what?"

"Kill them," said Bridget, her voice devoid of any emotion.

_And there was Bridget._

_Bridget, with a sword held deceptively loosely in her hand, the shining, whip thin blade outstretched…_

"_Kill them." _

_Bridget's voice was void of any emotion, her eyes dead._

The recollection of the vision shook Morgana to her core, chilling her blood even as a heated debate sprang up between the two siblings.

"And how will you explain to Fath-" he winced as the sword dug deeper. "To Lord Bedworth you've killed his son?"

"His son is already dead. You killed him."

"Not in his eyes. For all intents and purposes I am Thaniel."

"He has a point." Morgana put her hand on Bridget's shoulder. "Your father will never believe the truth. It could start a war. More innocent people would die."

"But we can kill the duplicate Morgana," suggested Merlin, his voice tailing off as the real Morgana turned to look at him in surprise. "She's nothing but magic and the Fossegrim inside would be dead too."

"How merciless of you, Merlin. I didn't think you had it in you," said the duplicate Morgana. "But can you really kill me when I wear the face of your friend? Or your beloved?" she asked turning to Arthur. He reluctantly lowered his sword.

"It won't help anyway," said Morgana. "Stab her with your sword and you're within distance for the magical essence to claim your own spirit. You'd end up trapped in the body instead."

"Is there anything in that book of yours?" Said Bridget.

"It tells me how to unmake the body but that's useless. It's like catching a spider in a teacup and then smashing the teacup. The spider would still run free."

"Grimacre's doesn't say how to kill a Fossegrim?" Bridget replied. "What kind of folklorist is he?"

"He does give two methods," admitted Morgana. "Calling their true names- neither of which we know and are unlikely to find out - or cutting off their heads with an iron axe and burning the body, before burying the head in sand." She pursed her lips. "Besides the fact that we can't kill Thaniel without starting a war, we don't have any sand anyway. You may not have noticed, but Camelot is hardly the seaside."

"There may be another way," said Merlin quietly. "But we need Excalibur."

Arthur frowned. "Isn't that in the lake? The lake we are forbidden to go near?"

Merlin nodded morosely.

"What a shame," crowed Thaniel. "Looks like we won't be going anywhere after all."

"Shut up," said Bridget, inching the sword further into his flesh. Thaniel winced and was silenced.

"What exactly is your plan, Merlin?" said Arthur.

"One of Gaius' books mentions that a magical sword can trap Fossegrim spirits. It's our best shot at getting rid of them."

"Thaniel will still be dead though. His spirit won't be coming back to his body," Morgana pointed out gently.

"Leave the explanations to me," said Bridget dispassionately. "But this Fossegrim dies one way or another."

"Wouldn't it be a lot easier to just fetch the sword and bring it back here?"

"We don't have time to make the return journey before the dawn patrol discover Lord Bedworth's son is chained up in the dungeon and release him. They're coming with us," said Arthur. "The bigger problem is how we get out of the castle without anyone noticing us."

"We need a distraction." Merlin's expression turned sly. "And I have an idea."

"Never a good thing to hear from you," muttered Arthur.

* * *

"Merlin's already told me once, but just so I know he's not joking I need to hear it from you." Gwen crossed her arms, glanced from Merlin's face back to Arthur's, and shook her head in disbelief. "You want me to what?"

"Set fire to my room," said Arthur patiently.

"Because?"

"It will create enough of a distraction so that I can sneak us out of Camelot without anyone noticing."

Gwen raised an eyebrow. "But why _your_ room?"

"Believe me; nothing would give me greater pleasure than to ask you to set fire to Merlin's room." Arthur grinned at his manservant who scowled back at him. "Unfortunately nobody really cares about Merlin, except perhaps Gaius, and it won't create the kind of chaos we need."

"But why do_ I_ have to do it?"

Arthur motioned to the group assembled in the dungeon cell. It was starting to become a bit crowded. "Because everyone thinks Morgana is evil, Morgana's duplicate and Thaniel _are _evil, Bridget's not in a fit emotional state, I can't leave in case everything goes to hell in a hand basket and Merlin...Merlin will enjoy it too much."

Merlin frowned and folded his arms. "Spoilsport."

"You've all gone mad," Gwen muttered incredulously. "You'll be in so much trouble if the King finds out."

"Your objections are duly noted." Arthur smiled kindly but began to usher her out of the dungeon door. "But I still need you to go and burn my rooms down." He frowned. "Now there's a sentence I never thought I'd say."

Gwen frowned and was just about to walk away when Arthur tugged on her sleeve. "By the way, if you could attract attention quickly so my belongings are saved it would be appreciated."

Gwen pursed her lips. "I'll do my best."

* * *

Twenty minutes later with the warning bells ringing out across Camelot the group made their way out of the dungeons, Merlin leading the way through the labyrinth of servant's passageways and back alleys. Not that they need have worried. No-one was guarding the gates, all of the knights having been dispatched to fetch water to put out the fire, the servants crowding in the courtyard to gossip about what was happening, as the flicker of flames licked up the Prince's windows consuming his fine damask curtains.

The group of hooded figures slipped out into the night, the two water demons bound and gagged between Bridget and Arthur, Morgana heading up the rear, her eyes fixed as always on Arthur, her heart heavy in her chest. He hadn't spoken two words to her since he'd found out what she'd done.

A part of her wondered if he ever would again.

* * *

Thaniel stumbled as they walked through the dark forest, the way only lit by the moon and a handful of glittering stars in the sky.

"Keep walking," said Bridget as she marched along behind him, nudging Thaniel with her sword as he righted himself. "Don't even think about making a run for it, or we'll find out just how well you can heal yourself."

Gagged as he was with one of Merlin's neckerchiefs, Thaniel could only glare at her.

The wood came to an abrupt end and they were suddenly out in the clearing by the lake, a barren patch of land strewn with pebbles, dead saplings and mounds of dirt between them and the water.

Without warning Thaniel lashed out with his legs and knocked Bridget flat on her back, her sword singing through the air. With two deft steps to his right, the blade arced down, slicing the rope coupling Thaniel's hands together. He ripped the gag from his mouth and spat on the ground, his expression a tangible mix of disgust and triumph.

"On the contrary, sister mine." Thaniel smirked, swinging the sword in his left hand as Bridget scrambled backwards, "let's find out how well you heal instead."

"Bridget!" Arthur leapt to her defence, his sword ringing against Thaniel's as the latter swung his blade at Bridget's head.

Which is when the duplicate Morgana decided to make a dash for freedom as well.

"Merlin, find Excalibur! And be quick about it!" yelled Morgana as she chased after the Fossegrim, cursing under her breath as the demon headed for the natural safety of the water. Cursing under her breath she gave chase, leaping over fallen branches in an effort to catch her before she disappeared into the murky depths of the lake.

But they were evenly matched and the duplicate was almost at the water when she stumbled over a rock jutting up out of the dirt. She tripped, her ankle twisting out unnaturally and she fell, sprawling at the lakeside, her fingertips trailing in the water. She scrabbled on her elbows to drag herself in and slither down into the water but Morgana reached her and yanked her back by her hair, the sable locks twisting in her fingers and wrapping round her wrists in two thick plaits.

The demon cried out and tried to wrench free but Morgana held tight and forced the duplicate's head down into the water, holding her under for several seconds before lifting her out again.

"You can't drown me, idiot," said the duplicate Morgana, spitting water from her mouth and shooting her a smug look. "Fossegrim, remember?"

"I wasn't trying to kill you," Morgana retorted. "It just made me feel better."

"Bitch," the other replied and twisted, fingers clawing at Morgana's hands, water splashing around them as they struggled at the lake edge. Morgana held tight though and tried to drag her away from the water, shoes slipping in the mud as she tried to gain ground.

The Fossegrim thrashed desperately. Losing her footing Morgana fell, her feet sliding out from under her, accidentally yanking the doppelganger back with her as she tumbled. The rope of hair in her fingers forced the Fossegrim's head up and back unnaturally, twisting tighter and tighter as Morgana landed on her back.

There was a sudden sickening pop. The duplicate Morgana lay still in the water, neck broken.

Morgana rolled over in the water and heaved. She caught sight of Merlin out of the corner of her eye, waist deep in lake water, his expression concerned.

"Are you ok?" He called.

She nodded and got up on her knees. "If I'm not sick, I'll be fine," she muttered to herself, taking a few breaths and detangling her fingers from the hair still wrapped around her hand.

She was about to ask Merlin if he'd found Excalibur but from his focussed expression as he waded through the water towards the middle of the lake she assumed not. Instead the sounds of fighting caught her attention again and she looked over to where Thaniel and Arthur were duelling, neither looking like they had the edge. Bridget, weaponless, could only watch helplessly from the side.

None of them seemed to have noticed that one of the Fossegrim was dead, that Thaniel's beloved was gone.

Morgana concentrated back to the body splayed out awkwardly at her feet, the lake water gradually soaking into the clothes, the figure covered in sand, dirt flecked on her face and coating her eyelashes.

There hardly seemed much point checking for a pulse- no-one could survive with their head at that angle, so instead Morgana knelt down beside her creation and spoke the few muttered words that unbound the duplicate body.

The doppelganger dissolved away in a quiet shower of sparks, leaving only the faint odour of fireworks and blood behind. There wasn't even an impression in the dirt where she had lain. There was also no sign of the Fossegrim, which was unsettling, but perhaps Grimacre had been wrong in his theory and the spirit had been killed. Either that, or it had slunk into the shadowy water around her.

On that disturbing theory Morgana stood up, brushing dirt and twigs from her clothes."One down," she said and moved to get herself hastily out of the water.

She never noticed the silvery blue mist suddenly reforming behind her. The water demon twisting and writhing, two glowing sparks for eyes, hands reaching out for Morgana, it's face twisted into a mask of hatred, hundreds of needle sharp teeth suddenly opening wide.

Bridget momentarily glanced away from the fight happening in front of her to search for Merlin and Morgana. Her eyes widened as she spotted the danger, scrambling to her feet in order to race to the lakeshore.

She barely had time to scream Morgana's name though before Thaniel's sword handle crashed viciously into her temple and she sank to the ground unconscious.

"Morgana! Run!" Arthur shouted, even as his sword clashed against Thaniel's as they battled over the fallen form of Bridget.

But it was too late.

Even as Morgana turned to see what was wrong the Fossegrim demon leapt for her, slithering down her throat in a haze of thick fog. She began to choke, her hands reaching to her neck and she bent double straining for breath, fingers clawing at her throat.

"Looks like you're back to square one, Princeling," sneered Thaniel as he parried and thrust his sword at Arthur's neck. "Your friends can't help you now and Excalibur is nowhere to be found. What are you going to do?"

Arthur growled and gripped his sword. "I can still beat you to a pulp and enjoy it."

He leapt at him, sword singing in his hand and sweeping low in an arc aimed at his thighs, so that Thaniel was forced to move back and give ground. Pressing his advantage, anger and desperation fuelling his movements Arthur forced Thaniel back, his blows becoming more and more violent, until Thaniel was struggling to parry them, managing to narrowly deflect a thrust at his heart.

Sweat beading his brow and teeth bared Arthur's fury flashed across his face. With one final blow the sword dropped from Thaniel's grasp and he fell backwards into the dirt, unarmed and helpless.

"When we find Excalibur I will take great pleasure in running you through with it," the prince murmured.

"Not if I run you through first," said Morgana, sweeping Arthur's legs out from underneath him.

He fell but with a quickly executed roll he dodged out of the way of her attack even as she stalked forwards, Thaniel's sword in her hand.

"Are you well beloved?" She asked, reaching out her hand to help Thaniel up. He grinned and took it gratefully.

"Better now you're back with me. For a moment I feared-"

Morgana cut him off by kissing him deeply, even as Arthur watched, his face contorted into a mask of hatred.

"The seer was foolish to rid herself of the duplicate so soon. She should have remembered her own ridiculous spider analogy!" Morgana smirked and caressed his cheek lightly. "And now we have only to rid ourselves of the Princeling and his bumbling servant and we are free to do as we like."

"Not bloody likely," said Bridget, punching Thaniel in the back of the head. Her brother stumbled and grabbed the back of his skull, whirling to face his sister.

"I thought she was supposed to be unconscious," said Morgana curiously, lazily swinging Thaniel's blade.

"Sorry to disappoint." Bridget grinned, "but a good friend of mine once said I'd got balls, and I'd hate to let them down. You punch like a girl, Thaniel, and you act like a pig, so I guess it's time to teach you how to fight like a man."

Thaniel scowled, flexing his fists. "Excuse me, beloved, but it appears I need to teach my sister some respect."

"That's fine," Morgana breezed, fixing her gaze on Arthur. "I have some issues of my own to work out."

Unnoticed by either pair Merlin had dragged himself slowly through the lake water, Excalibur clutched in his hands and was now making his way up from the lake, his waterlogged clothes hampering his movements.

"Looks like a re-match," said Morgana, as she and Arthur warily circled each other. "Except this time I won't be the one knocked unconscious."

Arthur's lips twisted into a mocking smirk. "You couldn't beat me last time we were here and you can't beat me now. All that power and you're still beaten by a mortal. Doesn't that just eat you up inside?"

The demon screeched in fury and leapt at him even as Merlin threw the bright shining blade of Excalibur. "Arthur! Catch!"

And in that moment time suddenly seemed to slow down.

Unconsciously dropping his own blade, Arthur's hand reached up, smoothly plucking the sword from the air as it whistled towards him, the edge glinting with refracted light as the first tendrils of the sun began to dawn in the sky. He felt the sword fit in his hand as if it had been made for him, the power soaking through his veins, strength filling his bones and he smiled as though anything was possible.

And he saw Morgana still leaping for him, her own blade bared to pierce his heart. Saw his hand come up to block her.

The hand holding Excalibur.

The sword so sharp, beautiful and deadly, poised to thrust her through.

He saw her eyes widen for that fraction of a second as she knew she couldn't stop, her own momentum carrying her forward into him.

Saw time run down.

"No!"

He didn't even realise he was screaming as the sword slid smoothly through Morgana's stomach and out the other side.

For a moment everyone stood frozen in tableau.

Then Arthur drew his arm back in shock, but it was too late. Thick rivulets of blood coated the blade, the blood staining the ground sunset red.

Morgana opened her mouth soundlessly, suddenly gasping for air as the sword in Arthur's hand began to glow, a streaming bright white light pulsating from it in waves as the Fossegrim was forcibly removed from Morgana's body. The demon writhed in the air, struggling against invisible bonds as it was sucked, screaming, into the sword.

And then the glow faded, the blade dulled and there was silence.

Morgana fell to her knees in the dirt, hands fluttering uselessly to her stomach. Her stomach now blossoming dark red with her blood.

Morgana's dying eyes found Arthur's.

Behind them the sun dawned.

* * *

**Please Read & Review! **

**Sorry guys, but I'm the kind of author who celebrates Christmas by giving my characters life threatening injuries. It's not the season of goodwill and love to all men if someone's not been stabbed, shot, grievously maimed or found themselves in general peril ;)**

**Have a Happy Holiday!**


	9. Death & A Silver Spoon

**Title:** Drowning In You

**Rating:** T

**Pairing: **Arthur/Morgana.

**Summary:** Someone is drowning young women in Camelot. With no motive and no suspects, Morgana must work out who the murderer is before she becomes the next victim…

**Warning: Character Deaths.**

* * *

"Look out!"

At Merlin's warning Arthur dropped to the floor and rolled. Thaniel's blade sang through the air where he had been standing only moments ago. The prince had no time to think, only dodge, as Thaniel's blows continued to come fast and furious, his eyes lit up manically, raw grief twisting his face.

"You took her from me!" The Fossegrim screamed as Arthur scrambled to his feet and brandished Excalibur, blocking a downward thrust at his ribs. "You took away my beloved!" He cast a careless glance in Morgana's direction as she lay bleeding on the ground and sneered. "But at least yours isn't far behind."

Arthur swung at his heart.

* * *

Kneeling in the cold mud Bridget balled her cloak up and pressed it to Morgana's abdomen, where the blood was staining her dress in an ever widening circle.

Morgana winced at the pain. "Bri?" She coughed, water and blood dribbling from her lips.

"Shhh," Bridget soothed, failing to keep the tremor from her voice. She stroked her hair gently and attempted a wobbly smile. "It's all right. Try not to speak."

Morgana shivered as the clash of swords continued to ring out around her but all she could do was stare up at the cloudless sky. Vaguely, she recognised it was turning a hazy shade of bloody pink.

Someone laid their jerkin over her and a pair of blue eyes came into view. For a second she thought they glowed gold and warmth filled her stomach. But she blinked hard, the brightness faded and the eyes disappeared leaving only the open wound of the sky. Someone dropped down on her other side.

"Merlin?" she whispered.

He gently took her hand. His flesh was hot, almost too hot and crackly dry like sticks on a fire as they clutched her cold fingers in his.

"It's alright, Morgana; you're going to be fine."

She smiled drowsily and shivered again. Her eyelids felt so heavy. "Always were…" Her head felt light and woozy, as though she'd drunk too much old wine at one of Uther's feasts and she struggled to finish her thought, "…terrible liar."

There was a pause and she knew he was exchanging a look with Bridget.

"Morgana, I need you to stay awake for us," said Merlin too brightly, his tone forcibly cheerful. "You can't go to sleep, you _mustn't_ go to sleep."

She blinked but her gaze was unfocussed and Merlin and Bridget suddenly seemed to be drawing further and further away.

"Morgana!" said Bridget sharply.

A burning hand pressed up against her forehead. "Alright," she muttered thickly, another round of shivers wracking her body. The ache in her belly intensified. "I'm stay….staying awake."

Bridget worried her lip and looked at Merlin. "How long until the dawn patrol arrive?"

He shrugged helplessly. "I don't know-"

A sudden cry rang out.

They watched helplessly as Arthur dropped to his knees, Excalibur falling to the ground from nerveless fingers.

Arthur, who was clutching his right, dislocated shoulder, which hung uselessly at his side.

Arthur who was kneeling, with Thaniel's blade pressed to his throat.

Arthur, who only had eyes for the still, pale body of Morgana that lay only metres from him.

Above him, Thaniel's eyes burned with triumph and pain. "Goodbye, Arthur." He raised his sword for the death blow.

"Thaniel! Don't!" Bridget screamed.

And he hesitated. A fraction of a second, a momentary pause in the downward thrust of his blade. His eyes flickered to the side to catch his sister's horrified stare.

And then Arthur's left hand enclosed around Excalibur, and with a flick of his wrist he sent the gleaming sword straight through Thaniel's heart.

The sword glowed once more, the bright streaming light capturing the water sprite and trapping it within the metal for an eternity, rippling waves of energy sucking the writhing Fossegrim from it's human shell.

Thaniel fell bonelessly to the ground as the light faded, his body reverting to its former appearance and his lungs exhaling their final breath.

Arthur dropped his sword and stumbled over to Morgana.

Her face had paled to the colour of frost licked water and her fingers were now icy in Merlin's grasp, despite the flickers of heat magic he was sending into her in a vain attempt to help.

"Morgana!" Arthur shrugged painfully out of his own jacket and tucked it in tightly over Merlin's. Beneath the pile of coats she was beginning to look pathetically small.

Her eyelids fluttered as she struggled to focus on him. "Arthur?"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he muttered, gently taking her other hand from Bridget and kneeling at her side.

"Did you…you win?" She asked, licking her suddenly dry lips.

"Yes."

"Then st…stop 'pologizing." She smiled weakly at him but a bout of violent coughing suddenly wracked her form and she rolled her head to the side, vomiting blood onto the muddy ground.

"Arthur," said Bridget urgently, "we need to get her back to the castle_ now_." She removed her hand from where it lay still pressed against Morgana's abdomen. It came out slippery with blood. Wiping her palm on her own clothes she pressed it back again more firmly.

Morgana winced and gritted her teeth. Said nothing.

Arthur's face was grim. "It'll take us too long on foot," he replied, "and none of us has a horse."

Merlin took a deep breath and opened his mouth, ready to spill his secret, ready to make a horse appear from thin air, when there was the sudden crash of hooves on shingle.

The dawn patrol had arrived.

"Sire!" Sir Leon's horse pranced beneath him anxiously as they came upon the scene. "What…?"

"There's no time to explain." Arthur retorted shortly. "Take Morgana. Ride as fast as you can back to Camelot and get her to Gaius, immediately."

"Sire?"

Between them Bridget and Merlin scooped Morgana up and bundled her into the knight's arms as she cried out in agony. Leon cradled her on his horse as gently as he could, confusion and fear crossing his face as he took in the other body lying by the lake.

"Get to her Gaius. Now!"

Leon nodded and with a sharp kick to the horse's flank he raced away, back through into the forest.

Arthur watched in silence until they could no longer be seen.

Sir Gedwyn dismounted from his horse and came over to the group. His eyes flickered over to Thaniel's body lying by the lake and then back to his Prince, who was spattered in gore and mud.

"Sire, everyone's looking for you. There was a fire in your rooms; nobody knew where you were…" He trailed off when he realised Arthur wasn't listening to him. "Prince Arthur?" He touched his shoulder.

For a moment Arthur stared blankly at him and then visibly pulled himself back together. "There is little time to explain," he said. "I need to speak to the King, now."

"Sire? Lord Thaniel..?"

It was Bridget who answered him, her voice surprisingly calm and controlled. "My brother was killed defending us from the water demon." She wiped her bloody hands on her cloak and fixed her red rimmed eyes on Gedwyn. "I need to take him to my Father."

"Of course, my lady." Glad for some direction, Gedwyn bowed and hastily began to direct his knights in wrapping up Thaniel in his cloak and taking him back to the castle.

"Arthur, your arm," said Merlin quietly by his side. "We need to fix it."

"Oh, yes," he replied absently, as though he'd forgotten all about it.

"I'll do it," said Bridget, "I've done it hundreds of times." She smiled sadly. "Comes with having older brothers."

She took his right wrist and held it out horizontally in one hand, then took his left hand and placed it down on his right collar bone, palm down. She placed her thumb on his right shoulder blade and then slid her palm towards his back.

"This will hurt," she said evenly. "But it'll be over quickly. One, two, three." She pressed down hard. There was a sharp tug, a loud popping sound and Arthur cried out as his shoulder realigned itself. Merlin wrapped his kerchief round it and slipped Arthur's arm into the temporary sling.

"Are you going to be able to ride back like that?"

Arthur nodded shortly. "I've had worse."

The knights had finished carefully wrapping Thaniel and had placed his body over one of the horses.

"My lady, if you'd like to ride with me?" Bridget nodded and followed Sir Gedwyn, taking his hand to mount the horse. The mare snorted under the weight of an extra unexpected load as Gedwyn swung himself up behind, her breath rising in the early morning as white mist.

Whilst the knights were busy Arthur picked up Excalibur from the ground and handed it back to Merlin. He gazed solemnly at the sword. "Merlin, put this back where you found it."

"You're not keeping it?"

"Knowing what's in it? No. Put it back where you found it." He paused. "On second thoughts… not in the water. When you have the chance, hide it somewhere else, somewhere safe."

Merlin nodded and while Arthur was helped onto Sir Kay's horse he quietly vanished it to a place of dark twisting paths, high thorny hedges and silent birds. A maze with a tree growing in the middle, which turned to stone as Excalibur's blade pierced the bark and buried itself up to the hilt in the tree trunk. A stone tree with a heart carved around two names.

"Merlin, are you coming?"

The servant boy nodded and slung himself up behind Sir Ephrayn on his white mare.

With a sharp nod from Arthur the knights set off back to Camelot, leaving the lakeside undisturbed, except for two bloody splashes of crimson on the shingle mud shore.

* * *

As the group clattered into the crowded courtyard they were met by a large crowd of confused courtiers and busy servants who were hurrying around carrying baskets of clean linens, smoke ruined clothing or fresh food. The thick stench of smoke still hung around, though the flames had long been put out, and Arthur could see the black scorched stone that crept down from his bedroom window where the fire had raged.

He slid from his mount as his Father stormed toward him, followed by Lord Bedworth in a thick overcoat and finely wrought boots, but who by the state of his beard and shadowed eyes hadn't slept at all that night.

Uther embraced his son fiercely, his face worn deep with worry. Then he held him at arm's length and scowled at him, eyes gleaming dark with anger.

"Where have you been?" he exploded. "And what have you done to yourself?" His eyes roamed over his son's muddied visage, the blood clinging to his hands and flecked through his hair. The sling cradling Arthur's right arm.

"Father-"

There was a sudden bellow of pain as Bedworth caught sight of his son, as the body was carefully taken down and laid on a stretcher. The older man rushed over to his son, clutching the body to him, his ruddy cheek pressed against Thaniel's tight sable curls.

All of Uther's anger seemed to deflate out of him as he watched his friend weep over the body of his son.

He turned to his own child, and this time when he asked his voice was weary. "Tell me what happened."

So Arthur rehearsed the story he had struck upon as they rode back from the lake. The story that would be told whenever anyone asked what happened the day that the House of Dunheny lost its youngest son.

That a possessed Morgana had broken free from her dungeon restraints.

Had attempted to kill the crown prince by burning down his rooms.

Had been caught in the act and chased from Camelot by the Prince, his servant, The Lady Bridget, and the Lord Thaniel.

How it had been cornered at the lake, only for her waterdemon beloved to emerge and attempt to kill them all.

How they had fought it, and freed Morgana from her possession.

How she had been gravely wounded in the process.

How Lord Thaniel had destroyed the Fossegrim.

How he had been killed in the process of saving them all.

By the time Arthur had finished narrating his tale of half truths and lies Uther was struggling to reign in his emotions.

"Father," he eventually asked when the King seemed unable to say anything. "Morgana? Is she-"

"Gaius is attending to her." Uther's face was grave. "She is in the best hands now." He turned to go but stopped, before awkwardly clasping his son's shoulder. "Considering the circumstances…well-done. You acted as a Prince of Camelot should."

Arthur watched as Uther strode away over to Bedworth, putting a consoling hand on his broad shoulders. Bridget was already standing silently next to her Father as Bedworth's tears trickled down his ruddy face and into his beard.

He turned and walked back to the castle entrance, Merlin trailing behind him. But the lie he had told still carried on the breeze. The lie that Uther was now telling Bedworth- the words that would partly soothe a father's grief.

"Your son died defending his friends from the evil that had been stalking Camelot."

Dazedly Arthur registered Sir Leon walking past him on his way into the entrance hall. Reaching out he grabbed the Knight by his shirt, before he knew what he was even doing.

Leon turned, but before Arthur could say anything the knight was shaking his head, knowing the question before it was even asked.

"Lady Morgana lost consciousness on the ride home."

* * *

It was over an hour before things had sufficiently calmed down in the courtyard. Thaniel had been taken back to his own rooms to be cleaned, washed and redressed in the emblems of his House by the serving women. Bedworth had retired, grieving, to his chambers along with his daughter and when the courtyard had finally cleared of gawping onlookers and gossips Uther wearily made his way to his council chambers, Court having been dismissed for the day.

Gaius was waiting for him when he got to the doors and he ushered his grave faced old friend inside the warm, richly lined room. Uther had just sunk into his great chair when there was an anxious knock at the door and Arthur came in, closing the door behind him. He was still wearing the same things as he had been when he arrived, though he appeared more dishevelled than ever.

"They wouldn't let me in to see her. Father, what's going on?"

Gaius exchanged a look with Uther. The king sighed.

"Come, Arthur. You might as well hear this from Gaius too."

The Prince turned anxiously to the physician. "Is she going to be all right?"

Gaius spread his hands apologetically and shook his head. "Sire, I'm very sorry, but the Lady Morgana is suffering from a grievous wound, and though I have done everything in my power to stem the flow of blood, the damage to her internally means that she is bleeding inside." He met Arthur's eyes squarely. "She has perhaps til tomorrow morning if she is fortunate."

Uther's face sunk deeper into grief at this new blow. "Gaius, there must be something you can do." He pressed him further. "If you can do nothing, perhaps there is someone you know who can help her."

The old man rocked on his heels. "Sire, tis a mortal wound. She is beyond the help of any doctor."

There was a pause and Uther put his greying head in his hands. And then the King lifted his head, eyes gleaming wetly and asked a question Arthur never thought he would hear his Father utter.

"What about the old practitioners?"

Arthur stopped his pacing and held his breath at his Father's statement, shock keeping him silent. His Father- the man who hated magic…was asking for magic to save his Ward?

Gaius shook his head in the pregnant silence. "Sire, there is no-one left who would help from the Old Religion, and even if there were they would never step foot in Camelot. I'm afraid there is very little hope."

"There is always hope," said Arthur fiercely, his eyes burning. He turned to his Father. "We can't just let her die. There must be something, some way!"

Uther's lips pressed tightly together, their edges turning white as he seemed to come to some decision. "Send a messenger to Escetia. Tell King Cenred, the Lady Morgana is deathly ill. Ask him…beg him to, to send Morgause."

"Father?" Arthur questioned at the same time as Gaius gasped quietly.

"Sire, you cannot be serious."

Uther sank deeper into his chair but his voice was steady, his decision firm. "I have little choice. I cannot fail Gorlois in the promise I made to keep his daughter safe. I have already failed one friend today. Do not make me add another to the list."

"But to send for Morgause…" Gaius clucked his tongue anxiously. "You know how she hates Camelot."

"But she loves her sister. She will come."

"Sire, it is a six day ride to Escetia. It is unlikely Morgana will see the next sunrise."

"I know, Gaius!" he snapped.

The physician took a small step back and Uther rubbed his face tiredly with one hand. His voice when he spoke next was soft with regret. "I know it's impossible she'll even get the message. But I have to try."

"Can I see her now?" asked Arthur impatiently.

Gaius nodded. "Of course, but-"

Arthur didn't wait to hear the rest of it. He had already raced out of the room.

* * *

Morgana lay in the Rooms of Healing, still and quiet, her face as pale as snowdrops, lips the colour of frozen water. Her face and hands were the only part of her he could see, swathed as she was under yards of bandages and brightly stitched blankets.

In the silence of the room Arthur sat down by her bedside and took her slender cold hand in his.

"Morgana? Please." His voice cracked. "Morgana, please wake up."

There was no response. His eyes tracked the irregular rhythm of her shallow breathing, her chest shuddering up and down and he clutched her fingers harder.

"You know, when they wouldn't let me see you whilst Gaius was treating you I went to your room and found that hiding place we'd had where you stuffed that old book we stole." His smile was pained. "Do you remember? We hid all sorts of things down that hole. Our secret space, we called it. There were those harpy toenails we bribed Gaius for and the butterfly I squashed trying to kiss you on your birthday." He smiled humourlessly. "You never did think it was a very good kiss."

He studied the blanket until the pattern began to blur before his eyes. "And…and there was the silver spoon we stole from the kitchens that Christmas, the lucky silver spoon they used to make the children's puddings with and we pretended that if you held it really, really tightly it would bring you luck and all that day nothing bad could happen to us."

He reached into the pocket of his tunic and pulled out the tarnished silver spoon. "Well the butterfly rotted away and I didn't think you'd want the toenails but the spoon is still pretty good." He uncurled her other hand and wrapped her fingers round the handle. "You have to squeeze really hard, Morgana," he ordered. "And, and then nothing…nothing bad can happen to you."

There was a gentle tap on the door and as he surreptitiously wiped at his eyes, Gwen walked in, carrying a pestle, mortar and a basket of herbs.

She offered him a kind smile as she placed her things down on Gaius' work bench. "Any change?"

Arthur swallowed and shook his head.

"Well, that's good." She bustled around with the herbs and held up a bushel of poppies along with a honeycomb and some seeds Arthur didn't recognise. "Gaius showed me how to make a syrup from the seed heads and she's been having the potion every hour or so. It's a very deep pain relieving draught." She gave him a weak smile. "She's just sleeping now."

He nodded, though Gwen didn't think he'd really registered what she was saying at all.

"After everything we've gone through. To lose her like this." He shook his head. "It's my fault."

"Arthur, no-"

"It was my sword. I ran her through." He turned his face away so Gwen wouldn't see his tears. His voice though was full of self loathing. "It's her blood on my hands."

"No, Arthur, you can't blame yourself like this. Merlin told me what happened. It was an accident."

"Give me my guilt, Gwen." His words choked in his throat. "It's the only thing I have left."

Gwen touched his shoulder gently. "Come, you should probably get cleaned up."

Arthur looked down, and realised he was still wearing the same clothes he had been in when he'd been at the lake. Clothes that were covered in Morgana's blood.

"I don't want to leave her," he whispered.

"When she wakes up she won't want to see you like this though, will she?" said Gwen, wincing at her own cruelty in giving Arthur false hope.

Arthur swallowed and nodded and she gently ushered him to the door, where Merlin stood outside waiting. Wordlessly she handed him over and motioned to his clothes.

Casting one last longing look back at the Healing Room, the Prince let Merlin slip a hand under his elbow and lead him away down the silent, empty corridor.

Gwen closed the door, sat down and cried.

* * *

Several hours later there was a knock at Bridget's door.

"Come in."

Arthur walked in as Bridget looked up from the letters she was writing. Bedivere, who had been seated in a chair by the fireplace rose and inclined his head to Arthur.

"I'm disturbing you," the prince observed and turned to leave.

"Not at all," said Bridget kindly. "Stay, please."

"If you will excuse me, my Lady. Prince Arthur." Bedivere and Bridget shared a look and then he left, closing the door behind him.

She sighed and glanced down at the pieces of parchment scattered in front of her. "I'm writing to my brothers urgently requesting them to come to Camelot," she explained. "Father's in no state to do it and the sooner they get here the better it will be for everyone."

Arthur looked stricken. "Bridget, I'm sorry, I should have thought-"

"Oh, don't apologize to me - that's all anyone seems to be doing today. Morgana is your first priority. There's nothing anyone can do for Thaniel now, except ensure he has the funeral he deserves." Bridget shook her head and though her eyes were red her face was composed. "My brother died five years ago when that creature took hold of his body. I hope he's at peace now."

Arthur took the chair Bedivere had vacated and warmed himself by the fire. "You saved my life, you know. He listened to you."

"Five years of pretending to be my brother must have rubbed off on him I suppose," she replied thoughtfully. She put down her quill and looked at Arthur properly. "When was the last time you ate anything?"

Arthur's face creased. "I'm…I'm not sure."

"Neither am I." She pushed away from her desk and took his arm in hers. "Come, we're going to the kitchens. I need something to take my mind off all these awful letters."

He had little choice but to follow her.

Down in the labyrinthine maze of larders he watched as Bridget efficiently raided shelves and pots and pottery dishes, helping herself to cakes, chicken legs, quiches and thick slices of buttered bread, which she piled onto silver platters. Lastly she took down a large jug of mead and poured out two goblets before handing one to Arthur.

She knocked her cup against his before taking a swig. "Cheers."

"I think I owe you an apology," he said eventually, when the plates were cleared and the mead half drunk.

Bridget snorted. "I should think so, yes. An apology is normally what one expects in these sorts of circumstances. "

"Well… then I hope you can forgive me."

"Forgive you for which bit?" Bridget poured herself another glass. "For thinking I was the murderer? For chasing me around the castle in the middle of the night, with a sword?" She crossed her arms. "Or for being generally rude and insufferable to me through most of my time here?"

"You're enjoying this," accused Arthur.

She smiled. "Just a little bit." She raised an eyebrow. "Well go on then. Get on with it."

"I… I made a mistake. I was wrong about you. I should have listened to Morgana." He sighed rather ruefully and leaned his head back against the cool white plaster of the stone. "I should always listen to Morgana."

"Arthur, you're a blockhead," said Bridget, not unkindly. "But you're Morgana's blockhead so I suppose that means I accept your apology. Come here." She engulfed him in a hug.

Arthur's eyes widened.

Bridget set him back down and held out her hand. "Friends again?"

He took it. "As long as you promise never to do that again."

She smiled and they shook. "Promise."

There was a comfortable silence as the two of them sat in the cool passageway and listened to the noise of servants rushing up and down the passageways above their heads.

"You know, when we were children Morgana and I used to sneak down here all the time and help ourselves to whatever we wanted. I remember the cream puddings used to go up to the Banqueting halls and they always had children's handprints in them." Arthur smiled at the memory and then hesitated. "Have you been to see her yet?"

Bridget nodded tightly. "Yes. She looked…peaceful." She smiled weakly. "Not like Morgana at all."

"My father's with her now." Arthur leaned his head back against the wall. "You know he's sent for Morgause."

"I heard," said Bridget. "Infact, I think the whole castle knows Uther's sent for her. There was somewhat of a rumpus about it."

"Do you think she'll come?" He hated that his voice sounded so unsure, so uncertain of himself.

Bridget nodded firmly, however. "Nothing is more important to Morgause than Morgana. I don't think anything could stop her."

* * *

It was evening and the candles were beginning to burn low when in the Rooms of Healing a rather hushed but urgent conversation took place.

"The damage done to her is too great, Merlin! The sword pierced too many important organs and she's bleeding internally." Gaius' face was grave. "I can give her pain relief and I can slow the bleeding for a while but I_ cannot_ stop it completely, nor can I stop her from dying."

Merlin's face blanched white. "But Arthur-"

"Believes she will wake because he cannot believe anything else. He believes Morgause will come on her white horse and save her sister." The physician sighed. "If the poor boy loses her now it will kill him, so he clings blindly to any hope he can."

"You don't think she'll come then?"

"You mean, if she gets the message at all." Gaius pursed his lips and looked over the rim of his glasses at his apprentice. "I think she would be a fool if she does. Her enmity with Uther is as legendary as her love for Morgana. She could save her sister's life and lose her own, and in the end all human beings are selfish creatures."

"And there's really nothing you can do?" pressed Merlin desperately.

"She needs a miracle." He saw the look on Merlin's face and shook his head. "Not even your magic can save her. She is dying. If magic were to restore her another life would have to be taken to restore the balance." Gaius placed his hands firmly on Merlin's shoulders and fixed him with a look. "Could you do that? Kill another to save your friend?"

Even as Merlin hesitated the old man pressed on. "And even if you did, even if you killed another to save her, what would Morgana think? Would she _really_ want you to take someone else's life to help her?"

Merlin sank down. "No."

"I am very sorry Merlin. More sorry than you can know. I've known Morgana nearly all of her life and to see her like this…" the old man sighed, shook his head and peered down at the unlabelled jars on his work bench. He pressed the top onto one of them and handed it to the young man. "Here, be useful and take this to Lord Bedworth. Tell him it will help him to sleep."

There was a tap on the door and Bridget popped her head around, followed by Arthur.

"Hello," she said quietly. "We just came to see how Morgana was."

Gaius ushered them inside, and Arthur took up his usual position at Morgana's bedside, one hand laced in hers. The other he noted with some hope, still clutched tightly to the silver spoon.

"I was just about to send Merlin to give this to your father. A sleeping draught." Gaius handed the potion over to Bridget. "Would you like one?"

"No. I have no trouble sleeping." She smiled thinly and stared at Morgana, as though she could will her to open her eyes and wake up. "It's when I'm awake that I'm troubled." She turned to Gaius. "Has there been any change?"

"No, my lady."

She swallowed a sigh and then clutched the jar to her chest, hesitating. "I suppose I should take this to my Father."

"I'll watch over them both," Merlin offered quietly.

She squeezed his hand gratefully. "Thank you, you're a good friend."

Taking one last look at the woman lying in the bed and the man sat in vigil beside her she left.

Gaius rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn before closing his medical ledger. "I am retiring to bed." He pressed Merlin's arm and looked at him significantly. "Fetch me if anything changes."

"You're leaving?" Arthur said angrily.

"Sire, I am only a room away. If there is any change or you need me for anything, simply knock on my door," Gaius replied firmly. "But I cannot help anyone if I never sleep."

Arthur sank back down wearily and nodded. "All right then. Goodnight, Gaius."

Merlin sat down in the easy chair by Gaius' table and watched the candles burn lower. Arthur seemed content to sit in silence and gaze at Morgana, and unwilling to break the peace that had settled over the room Merlin soon found his eyelids flickering.

Unwillingly he felt sleep creep up on him. He blinked quickly but soon there was nothing for it but to pillow his head with his arms on Gaius' desk and close his eyes.

He would just have five minutes rest. Five minutes and then he would wake again.

It wasn't long before Arthur slipped into sleep after him, the moon high in the heavens casting silver shafts of moonlight through the high paned window.

Without a breeze, the candles guttered.

In her bed, Morgana let out a final shuddering breath.

* * *

**Please Read and Review! **

**Tell me all your thoughts and reactions :) Hope this chapter was worth the wait!**

**My wonderful reviewers, thank you for bearing with me in my four month absence. Life has been very busy as of late, which is why I haven't posted and then I left my Master Document of this story at my parent's house which prevented me from finishing this chapter for about 10 weeks. So apologies, but hope this chapter more than makes up for the gap!**

**p.s Sorry about the cliffhanger.**


	10. The Sleeping Sister

**Title:** Drowning In You

**Rating:** T

**Pairing: **Arthur/Morgana.

**Summary:** Someone is drowning young women in Camelot. With no motive and no suspects, Morgana must work out who the murderer is before she becomes the next victim…

* * *

Merlin wasn't sure what woke him. Cracking his bleary eyes open, he rubbed the back of his neck and stretched his aching limbs wide over his head, flexing his fingers. A casual look out of the window confirmed that dawn was breaking.

Dawn…

Merlin's heart leaped in his chest. Stumbling up from his chair behind Gaius' desk he moved over to Morgana's bedside…and came to a sudden halt.

A blonde haired woman was sat beside Morgana's bed, her hand pressed against the younger woman's forehead. Morgana, whose cheeks were flushed, whose skin shone rosy pink, whose chest rose up and down calmly in a deep, easy sleep.

The blonde haired woman turned to look at him before he could speak. She appraised him silently before smiling very slightly with lips as dark as blood.

"Hello, Merlin."

"Who are you?" hissed Merlin, feeling his fingers bend in anticipation of a fight, magic curling in his fingertips. "How did you get in here?"

"I am Morgause," said the woman. "Morgana's older half sister."

Merlin took an unconscious step back. "But how did you get here so quickly? The messenger…"

"I have remarkable hearing and I ride extremely quickly," she replied dryly. "And there's no need to whisper, Merlin. Morgana's in a very deep healing sleep and your Prince over there sleeps like the dead, so you won't be disturbing them."

Merlin glanced at Arthur protectively, sudden fearful...relieved when he noticed his chest moved up and down regularly in the slow, deep sleep of the weary.

Morgause only appeared amused. "Don't worry, Merlin, your precious Princeling is alive. It would rather ruin my plans to kill him."

"But you have killed someone, haven't you," he challenged, more bravely than he felt. "To save Morgana. Someone's died?"

"Gaius been filling you in on the old ways has he?" She tutted. "You know that's only going to get you into trouble one day, Merlin. But yes, he's right. Life for life. Blood for blood." She smiled nastily at Merlin. "I wouldn't worry your pretty little head about it. It's not anyone you know."

"How…how do you know my name?"

"I keep tabs." Morgause smirked and brushed a hand tenderly over Morgana brow, tidying away a lock of hair. "I take a great interest in my sister's welfare…and in her friends…"

"You mean you've been spying."

She raised one delicate blonde eyebrow. "Wouldn't you? If someone you loved was living within the walls of a man you despise?"

Merlin crossed his arms. "If you hate Uther so much why haven't you taken Morgana away with you?"

"Because she is- to my ever unfailing disbelief- happy here. Besides, who am I to decide where Morgana lives? I'm her sister, not her jailor." Morgause shrugged. "But if she did ever truly wish to leave then of course she could come and live with myself in Cenred's castle."

There was an awkward pause as Merlin watched Morgause fuss over her sister, raising her blanket higher and smoothing out the creases.

He wondered if there was another person's blood beneath her fingernails.

Wondered why he wasn't shouting for the guards.

Or why he hadn't woken Arthur.

Most of all though, he wondered about her.

"You know she's never mentioned you," he offered eventually, into the silence.

"I was already five when Gorlois married my mother. Morgana was born a year later. She grew up with me in her infant years and I was terribly proud of being an older sister. I took her everywhere with me, prized her above all the dolls I was offered, above all of the friends that I had." Morgause's faint smile quivered and then died on her lips. "Then our mother passed away one spring, before Morgana could ride properly-she must have been six. I went to live with my relatives in the North – my grandmother was still alive and so were my mother's two brothers and an aunt. Gorlois thought it would be good for me to be surrounded by my Mother's kin. He was right." Morgause pursed her lips and broke off a stray thread on the blanket of Morgana's bed. "When Gorlois died he could have sent Morgana to us, to her family. But he didn't. He sent her to Uther. Magic fearing, magic hating, Uther."

"Why didn't you take her then?"

Morgause held his gaze fast. "I don't remember my own father; he died before I was born. But I do remember Gorlois and he loved my mother very much. So I respected his decision to place Morgana under the protection of his best friend. It turned out he was right, again. This was the best place for her."

"So Morgana doesn't remember you?"

"Oh, she remembers me. We write to each other regularly. I see her occasionally when I can. But I don't think it's court etiquette to keep mentioning how close you are to your older half sister when you live under the roof of a man who can't stand her. Not really polite."

"Doesn't sound like Morgana to keep quiet about something just to please Uther."

Morgause shrugged. "Perhaps not. But why should Uther's ire be directed at my sister when it should be aimed at me? We are both very aware of each other. Neither needs a reminder. And if Morgana never speaks of me, it is not because she is embarrassed or ashamed or frightened. It is because she loves Uther and she loves me. I don't want to have to make her choose."

"That's diplomatic of you."

"Thank you." Morgause inclined her head with a smirk. "Makes you uneasy doesn't it?"

"Suspicious."

She held up her hands. "Don't worry; I'm not here to cause any trouble…yet anyway. Uther and I have old scores to settle but now isn't the time or the place."

The bells of alarm began to ring out their warning peals into the dawn light.

"Really," said Merlin dryly.

Morgause flashed her sharp white teeth at him. "Oh, that's just my mode of transportation finally being noticed by Camelot's knights. I'd say I was surprised she wasn't spotted before, but they're not exactly what one would call observant. They were trained by Arthur after all."

Said prince was stirring beside Morgana as the bells continued to ring, and Morgause reclined languidly in her own seat.

"Shouldn't you be leaving now?"

Morgause shook her head, held up her hand and counted down silently from five, long sinewy fingers curling into her soft white palms.

5...4...3...2...1

The solid oak doors to the apothecary were flung open, little flakes of plaster drifting down from the cracks left in the walls. Uther stormed in, followed by a wary looking Gaius, both men stopping short as they took in the scene.

"Uther."

"Morgause."

"Gaius."

"Huh?" (Arthur had finally woken up.)

Morgause ignored him and lounged in her chair indolently.

"Well, witch." Uther's face was twisted with hatred and fear, his mouth curled, forehead creased, eyes black as pitch as he gazed at the woman he despised and yet whose help he needed. "Is she cured?"

Morgana sneered, as if it were a light thing to heal the near dead. "Of course. She'll sleep for a few days now and when she wakes she will be weak and in some discomfort. But she is no longer in danger of dying."

Uther grunted, eyes fixed upon his ward as she slept peacefully. Arthur's fingers were still carefully interlaced with hers, relief plain to see on his face as he watched her almost reverently.

Morgause folded her arms. "Well, don't all rush to thank me at once."

"Saving one person cannot possibly begin to atone for your other crimes," Uther replied sternly.

"You know morality is simply the attitude we adopt towards people whom we personally dislike. A dangerous thing for a man to preach when his own crimes far outweigh those he condemns. But then, you always were a hypocrite," she scoffed.

"And every word from your lips is poison," he growled, hand twitching by his sword. "Get out, before I make you."

Morgause's brow knit and she glared at Uther, even as she stood languidly. "Careful, Pendragon. You promised to protect Morgana and you failed. Watch I don't make you pay for your carelessness with your own life, or that of your kin." She eyed Arthur even as Uther stepped forward, hand on his blade.

There was a sudden scream from the courtyard and a dark shape crossed the dawn light. Morgause flung open the window latch as the bells grew frantic. "Remember, Uther. I'm always watching." She gave a final smirk at Merlin and inclined her head.

And then she jumped out of the window.

Uther, Arthur and Merlin ran to the sill watching as Morgause slid smoothly down the cloth banners that hung down the battlements. A brief jump dropped her in the cobbled courtyard, where she bowed to her audience before clambering onto the large beast which had detached itself from the castle turrets and landed heavily in the courtyard.

"Bloody hell," said Arthur, rubbing a hand through his hair. "Is that a gryphon?"

"She did say she rode here quickly," Merlin shrugged in bemusement. "She never said it was a horse."

"A beast of Hell, fit for a she-devil," muttered Uther as with a shrieking cry from its eagle's head the great beast took off into the sky. It lashed out with its lion's tail at the knights of Camelot who trailed, too late, into the courtyard as the beast and Morgause disappeared into the rising dawn sun.

Gaius meanwhile had moved over to Morgana, calmly and methodically checking her pulse, her breathing and her wounds as she slept.

"Well, Gaius?"

The old man smiled softly, his wrinkled face creasing into pleased astonishment. "Sire, she's completely healed. From what I can gather she remains only in a deep sleep which I believe she will wake from naturally soon enough."

"Then… she will live?"

Gaius nodded firmly. "Yes Sire, she will live."

The blinding smile that passed across Uther's face transformed him into another man as he clapped his hands together.

"Excellent! Excellent news! Our prayers have been answered – this is a great day of joy and celebration. We will ring out the bells through Camelot to announce the Lady Morgana's recovery." He caught his son round the shoulders and beamed at him. "What say you, Arthur?"

Arthur laughed at his father's infectious, relief filled joy. "It's a good idea. It will cheer the people to know of good news after the terrible events of the past weeks."

Gaius shifted uncomfortably, clearly reluctant to voice his next thoughts but having little option. "And...Morgause, sire?"

Merlin watched as the other man, the happy joyous man who had briefly worn the King's crown died suddenly. Then Uther was back again, his face lined in its familiar scowl, the corners of his mouth permanently pressed together in an unrepentant frown.

"When Morgana wakes no-one is to tell her of her sister's actions or of her appearance. If she asks how she recovered all credit will go to Gaius."

The white haired man shifted uncomfortably. "Sire, I-"

"Arthur, post guards on the outer perimeter and the village, in case the witch dares to foolishly return. She is to be killed on sight."

"Father," Arthur interjected, dismayed but unsurprised at his Father's callousness. "She just saved Morgana's life. Surely a little leniency-"

"Morgause could save a hundred lives and she would still be our enemy." Uther fixed his son with a look that chilled him, a blank look of unremitting, cold and calculated hatred. "She uses magic, and anyone who chooses to do so is an enemy to the kingdom, to the crown and to the way of life we have struggled to establish and continue here. Magic will always be our enemy and those who use it are traitors to Camelot and its people. And they always will be. Am I understood?"

Arthur bowed his head; teeth gritted and bit his tongue. He nodded sharply.

"Good." With one final look at his son and his unconscious ward he swept from the room, leaving an uncomfortable silence in his wake.

Gaius fiddled with the many bottles that lined the Healing room for a few minutes, checking the ingredients in each vial before gathering together the empty ones and placing them in a brown wicker satchel. "You will have to excuse me, sire, but since the Lady Morgana is doing so well I should look in on my other patients."

Arthur waved his hand dismissively and with a nod to the prince and a curious look at Merlin the physician departed, leaving Arthur and Merlin watching over a sleeping Morgana.

Merlin began to unconsciously tidy up in the pregnant silence that remained, repositioning vials and candles, adjusting boxes and books as he worked his way around the room.

Arthur meanwhile continued to gaze at Morgana, frowning as she lay still and soft and quiet in the middle of the bed. "He'll never change, will he?" he said eventually, leaning against one of the bed posts.

"Who?" Merlin asked deliberately evasively as he closed the window Morgause had unlatched in her escape.

"My Father. He'll always hate magic. Even when it's so clearly been used for good."

Merlin stopped his unnecessary tidying and stared at Arthur. "Then…you don't think all magic is bad either?"

"How can I?" He motioned out of the window at the faint speck that was Morgause on the back of her gryphon. "It saved Morgana. How can something that saves a life be bad?"

Merlin wondered whether to tell him about the part where Morgause had killed someone in order to save her sister. He opened his mouth, thought better of it and shut it again.

"Besides, if I were to condemn all magic I would have to condemn Morgana too."

Merlin looked up sharply at that. "What?"

"She used magic to create that double, remember? Her dreams- they're the visions of a seer. That's not something I can ignore, or forget." Arthur sighed. "My father is blinded by his hate. He would have Morgana killed if he knew the truth, even as he now rejoices in her recovery."

"Then you're not going to tell Uther about Morgana?"

Arthur laughed incredulously, but the laugh held no joy. "Tell him? I open my mouth and I sign her death warrant. And I couldn't do that." Arthur shook his head fiercely. "I couldn't do that to anyone; not to a stranger in the street or a servant in this castle but especially not to the woman I-"

He caught himself in time. Merlin, for once, tactfully said nothing.

"My father will not always be king," Arthur continued. "Perhaps when that day comes Camelot will become a fairer, wiser place to live in…for all people." Arthur slid his gaze across to meet Merlin's, his eyes dark and solemn. "I hope I can trust you to keep Morgana's secret?"

Merlin allowed a small proud smile to bloom across his face. "With my life."

"Good." Arthur nodded and sat back in his chair. "In the meantime, clot pole I need you to start unpacking all of my possessions that escaped the fire in my room. And shine my armour. Oh and fix my shirts, several of them need darning. When you've done all of that come and see me, I have a list."

The smile slid off Merlin's face. He folded his arms. "You know in this fairer, wiser society of yours when you're king, do I get a promotion?"

"Of course," said Arthur generously.

"Really?"

Arthur smirked. "You'll get to be the King's manservant instead of the Prince's."

* * *

Despite Gaius' diagnosis that Morgana would come round of her own accord, after a week with no sign of her waking the atmosphere in the castle was once again growing more and more concerned.

The evening shadows were just beginning to lengthen across the courtyard when Bridget slipped quietly into Morgana's room. Seeing that she was still fast asleep Bridget sighed and shut the door behind her, taking up the vacant chair that stood beside the bed. She poured herself a glass of water, toyed with it for a moment and then sat it back down.

"Good evening, Morgana," she began brightly. "I thought I'd come and read to you. Your librarian recommended this volume," she picked up the book and read the title, "The Lament of Druvayne the Wanderer." She frowned and read aloud the opening sentences before abruptly shutting the book and sliding it under the bed. "Then again, I'm not sure Geoffrey understood that I wanted something exciting. I think I'm simply furthering your coma by reading this."

She smoothed her skirt and idly played with a bronze bracelet on her wrist, twisting the metal round and round her hand.

"So, Morgana. Any news?"

There was silence.

"You know it's terribly boring if you don't reply. If I wanted to talk to myself I could have stayed in my room and pretended to be mad."

Still, Morgana lay peacefully unaware and unresponsive.

Bridget fiddled with her bracelet once more before giving up and voicing her troubles. "You know you missed Thaniel's funeral. We had the ceremony outside the walls on the hill over looking Camelot." She swallowed around the lump in her throat. "It was a really beautiful day. And he would have liked the view. Uther offered to have his ashes interred in the royal grounds, for having been killed defending the king's son and his ward. Though it was a great honour Father said no, he wanted him buried next to my mother." Bridget sniffed and smiled ruefully. "I wish you'd have been there, you'd have known just what to say. Arthur's not so good with words and neither are my brothers. As it was Bedivere held my hand and let me cry on him."

Bridget worried her lip. "I think he's going to propose, Morgana. He's been getting more serious lately…well he was always serious anyway, but he keeps mentioning the future and security and making a commitment to each other. I just thought we were having fun."

She paused as though Morgana had interjected and fiddled with her bracelet again.

"Alright, so I know that's a lie. It started off as harmless flirting and then somewhere along the way I fell in love with him. And I do love him. Honestly. But I'm scared Morgana. What if he does propose?"

She got up from her chair and began to pace back and forth from the bed to the curtained window.

"If I say no I break both our hearts. But if I say yes I'll be married and someone's wife and I'll have to be sensible and responsible and start thinking about having children and sewing and being at the beck and call of my husband and then I'll grow to be resentful and cranky and then Bedivere will start having affairs and I'll get old and fat and ugly and saggy in places I don't want to be and I'll have to endure hundreds of fat grandchildren all over my castle and I'll die old and alone, and then I'll go to Hell because I'll have been a terrible wife and mother."

She slumped back down in the chair and worried the nail of her thumb. "And this is the part where if you were awake you'd be terribly reassuring and you'd have stopped my worried ramblings before they even started."

She took Morgana's hand in hers. "Do wake up, Morgana. I miss you, and I'm being terribly selfish but I need you because I can't tell anyone else about this and no-one else will understand."

She squeezed her hand earnestly and let out a small, sad little laugh. "Gwen misses you. She keeps asking me if I need my hair braiding or my clothes sewing even though I have my own maid. I think she's bored and lonely."

"And of course Arthur misses you." She patted her hand. "He's had to go back to training the knights since things have quietened down, but he checks on you every morning before he patrols and every evening before he eats. It's really quite sickening. You'd have laughed at that if you'd have been awake, and made some insulting remark."

She sighed. "Even Merlin misses you…though I think what he misses more is that there's no-one around to take Arthur down a peg or two. Uther misses you too. He doesn't come and see you very often." She frowned. "I think it reminds him too much of Igraine when she was dying, but he always asks for a report from Gaius and his shoulders always slump slightly when Gaius tells him there isn't any change. You have so many reasons to wake up, Morgana. Why are you still sleeping?"

Bridget pouted, gave her friend's hand one final squeeze and then let go. "You'd better be having a very good dream that's all I can say, and it had better be a very dirty one otherwise I'm going to be highly disappointed in you."

She tapped her fingers on the bedspread. "And I know you've been awake for the past five minutes you sly thing, so you can open your eyes and stop faking."

Morgana never moved.

Bridget sat back in her chair. "Bother, I was so sure that was going to work."

There was a knock at the door and Arthur appeared, still clad in his practice clothing, hair plastered to his head with sweat, and mud splattered across his shirt and body protector.

"Any change?"

"No, sleeping beauty is still beautiful, still sleeping," Bridget shrugged. "Still not much of a conversationalist."

Arthur smiled at the nickname but it was a sad smile, hope a little bit more dimmed.

"How was training?" asked Bridget, steering the conversation into safer waters. "I hope Bedivere didn't beat you too badly."

That got a smile.

"As you can see I escaped unscathed. The same can't be said for Readlyn or Galahad though."

"I'm sure you're just hiding your bruises under all that padding. I'll ask Bedivere later."

Arthur rolled his eyes good naturedly. "Who will no doubt paint a picture that is grossly inaccurate and unfair."

"Speaking of unfair has Merlin finished unpacking all of your belongings yet into your room?"

"Nearly. He is quite slow."

Bridget shot him a barbed look. "It'd be quicker if you gave him a hand."

"You know the point of servants is that they do the work for you."

"And the point of friends is that they help each other."

Arthur waved a hand carelessly. "He's got nothing else better to do all day."

Bridget shook her head incredulously. "I'm just glad the fire didn't do much damage or you'd be having him build a new room for you."

The dinner bells began to sound.

Arthur looked down at his clothes and grimaced. "I'd better change."

"I'll get Gwen to come and sit with Morgana," offered Bridget. Arthur nodded gratefully and disappeared, leaving Bridget once more alone with Morgana.

She got up from her chair and smoothed Morgana's hair before leaning down and whispering in her ear.

"Your friends miss you. Think about what I said and please wake up soon."

* * *

They were half way through the main course when there was a hurried knocking on the doors to the private dining room.

Uther frowned over the rim of his wine glass but called anyway. "Come in."

Gwen appeared dropping a curtsey, but she was shaking so badly with excitement that the curtsey was brief and wobbly and she could barely contain herself.

Arthur had already half risen from his chair at the sight of her. "Gwen, what is it?"

"She's awake. Morgana's awake!"

Arthur was out of his chair and running before Gwen had barely managed to finish and she was almost bowled over as he ran past her.

Fortunately she was laughing and crying too much to care.

Uther too made to follow, rising from his chair, but it was Bridget who spoke, a small self-satisfied smile on her face.

"Trust me," she said, calmly placing one hand over his. "I think it's probably a good idea if we give them some privacy. We can go and see her this evening instead. We don't want her to feel crowded."

Uther looked as though he was going to say something. Instead he nodded absently and sat back down in his chair, but his eyes followed the path his son had taken out of the hall and his gaze was thoughtful.

* * *

Morgana's eyes felt wet and sticky, as though she'd been crying in her sleep and her tears had shut her lids together. Weakly she raised one hand and rubbed at her lashes before blinking rapidly in the blinding glare of the room. There was a glass of water by her bedside and she took thirsty gulps, easing the burning in her throat even as her head pounded in her skull. She shut her eyes again, leaning back against her cool crisp pillow. Distantly she thought she heard the sound of pounding feet. But it could just have been her heachache.

When she finally opened her eyes again, Arthur was leaning against a bedpost staring at her.

"Don't _ever_ scare me like that again."

Morgana opened her mouth to say something witty in response but she was too tired and her head ached.

"All right."

Arthur's brow raised. "Good grief, you're agreeing with me? Now I know you're possessed."

"Haha." Morgana's brow crinkled. "Shut the curtains please. The light..." She rubbed her aching head and winced. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?"

Morgana managed to shoot him a dry look, even whilst she massaged her temples. "Would I be asking if I did?"

"Your name is Morgana and you were born-"

"I know who I am, Arthur," she replied wryly. "I meant, how did I end up here?"

"There was a demon," Arthur began as he pulled the curtains closed, his fingers gripping into the material as if it would disappear. "In the water. A nixie-"

Morgana sat bolt upright in the bed and winced, as her chest ached. "You stabbed me!"

"So you do remember." Arthur's face tensed and something like agony flickered across his face. "Morgana, I'm sorry, I should have been more careful. I should have anticipated your move, I should have been quicker. You nearly died and it was my fault." He sat down in the vacant chair by her bed and took her hand, surprising them both. "How can I ever make it up to you?"

Morgana sank back into the pillows and squeezed his hand weakly, enjoying the sensation of his rough, calloused fingers against her own. "Give me time. I'm sure I'll think of something."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment as Arthur wrestled with whether or not to tell her the truth. Morgana, who had been lazily watching the candle's shadows trace across the wall, caught the look of internal debate on his face.

She pressed his hand. "Arthur, what's wrong? Is everything alright? Is everyone well?"

"Your sister paid us a visit," he admitted.

"And the castle's still standing?" said Morgana weakly.

"Just about. Don't ask me how she did it but she cured you. Father was relieved you were better and then the relief gave way to anger. Morgause had to jump out of a window."

"My sister jumped out of a window?"

Arthur smirked and nodded. "And then flew off on the back of a gryphon. It was rather impressive."

"She always did like to show off, even when we were little." Morgana smiled at the image and then sobered. "I suppose you weren't meant to tell me?"

Arthur nodded. "All credit to Gaius, I'm afraid."

"Don't worry I won't say anything." She smiled and then winced again as her head throbbed once more.

Arthur's face was pulled into a concerned frown and she found herself smiling inwardly at how adorable he looked when he was genuinely worried about her. He also looked tired, she noticed. As though he'd not been sleeping well. Or at all, her mind added.

He leant closer to her, pulling her hand closer to the warmth of his chest. "Where does it hurt?"

"My head," she replied simply.

And then Arthur managed to surprise even himself. He leant down and softly pressed his lips against her hair, lingering for a few moments before pulling back.

She smiled wanly and raised an eyebrow. "Are you kissing it better?"

"If it helps."

She bit her lip, heart racing in her chest. It was now or never. Time to make a decision. She closed her eyes and swallowed.

"Then my forehead hurts too."

She felt him move over her, felt his lips press firmly but softly against her brow. His warm breath gently grazed her hairline. She shivered but didn't open her eyes as she moved her finger and pressed it to her cheek.

His lips again caressed her skin, small deliberate movements of his mouth against her, each kiss more sensual than the last.

She pointed to her chin where he skimmed butterfly kisses across her jaw and neck. Her free hand fisted the bed sheets as she pointed daringly to her lips.

"Morgana?"

"Yes?"

"Open your eyes."

Brilliant, striking cobalt met jade as his breath ghosted over her lips. She gasped and then his mouth covered hers.

It felt like a fire was licking trails up her skin, her skin prickling with heat as he kissed her, slanting his mouth over hers hungrily, desperately. She felt like she couldn't breathe, as though he was trying to consume her, and she was letting him, urging him on, closing her hand into his shirt and puling him closer, her nails catching in the material and dragging him down with her.

She kissed him with all of the repressed desire she'd been feeling for months, for years as he'd chased other women and she'd pretended to love other men.

She kissed him with all of the anger she felt for letting him hurt her, for having him use her, for that moment in the maze when he'd so badly let her down, all those years ago.

She kissed him in relief that he was safe and she was alive and breathing and free to take what had always been hers.

Mostly though, she kissed him because she loved him and couldn't tell him yet. One day perhaps, but until then a kiss said more than words ever could and she hoped that he kissed her for the same reason.

Eventually she had to pull away to breathe, smiling at him as he traced her jaw line with his fingers, feeling the delicate bones beneath the skin.

Wordlessly she patted the space beside her and he hesitatingly lay down next to her on top of the sheets.

Her fingers reached for his again and she smiled slowly when he began to leisurely stroke the back of her hand.

"I do have one question, though."

"Anything," he replied earnestly.

"Why did I wake up holding a spoon?"

"Ah." Arthur rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well, um…"

"You know, the next time I'm in a coma flowers are fine."

Arthur smiled back at her and slid his arm around her shoulders, pressing his head against her curls.

"I'll remember that."

"Good."

There was a comfortable silence as they lay together on the bed. Morgana was beginning to drift into the warm haze that begins before sleep when Arthur's quiet voice broke into the silence.

"Morgana?"

"Mmh?"

"I really am glad you're better."

Morgana breathed in the clean, warm smell of his shirt, of his skin and curled in closer, feeling the reassuring rise and fall of his chest.

"I can tell."

* * *

As the moon slid high into the star strewn sky, Gwen peered around the Healing room door, finding them curled up next to each other. Arthur lay on top of the sheets with his arms wrapped protectively around Morgana, cradling her sleeping figure. Gwen said nothing and quietly tiptoed out of the room.

"They're asleep," she whispered, smiling widely. "It's really lovely."

Merlin raised an eyebrow and stuck his head round the door, as Bridget peered though the gap and smirked.

"I don't like it," admitted Merlin, pulling his head back. "It's unnatural for them to be this quiet when they're together. At this point they're normally both arguing."

Gwen put her hands on her hips. "Maybe they've matured."

"Maybe he's smothered her."

"Don't be mean," Bridget smacked Merlin sharply. "She could have smothered him instead."

"I'm just saying it's unlikely this abnormal peace will last," he argued, rubbing his stinging shoulder. "I give them until tomorrow and then everything will be back to normal."

Gwen took one last look at the sleeping couple before shutting the door behind her. "I disagree; Arthur looked really lost when Morgana was in her coma. I've never seen him like that before." She smiled warmly and linked arms with Merlin as they wandered back down the corridor. "I really think this is it now," she beamed happily and began to daydream. "I wonder when he'll ask her to marry him! She'd be such a beautiful bride."

Merlin pulled to an abrupt stop. "You think he's going to ask her to marry him?"

"Why not? She was practically born to be queen and when he nearly lost her Arthur realised Morgana is his one true love." Gwen sighed romantically. "It's destiny."

"Gwen, firstly you give Arthur far too much credit, and secondly this is the Arthur and Morgana Saga," Bridget replied dryly. "One of them had to end up bleeding before they even admitted they liked each other."

Merlin nodded his head emphatically. "It took a water demon, the threat of impending death, and several drowned women for them to get together. I think you're going to have to wait for some kind of national earthquake or massacre before he admits he loves her, let alone proposes."

"Perhaps after a rain of toads?" Bridget offered as they set off once more down the corridor.

"Freak flood."

"Epidemic of boils."

"Attack by dragons."

"Hoard of barbarians."

"Infestation of chimera."

"Ooh, good one."

Gwen, romantic ideals crushed, sighed and trailed after them. "I'm not sure why I'm friends with either of you."

* * *

**Please Read and Review!**

Sorry for the huge wait guys but I hope it's been worth it.

One more chapter left to go now and then this baby is finished!

Tell me what you thought, drop me a line and let me know! Each review is a little box of sunshine in my email inbox, and I need sunshine because there doesn't seem to be any, despite it being July.


	11. A Dream of Drowning

**Title:** Drowning In You

**Rating:** T

**Pairing:**Arthur/Morgana.

**Summary:** Someone is drowning young women in Camelot. With no motive and no suspects, Morgana must work out who the murderer is before she becomes the next victim…

* * *

A strange sense of emptiness woke Arthur.

He stretched his arm out to curl tighter round Morgana's body but his reaching hand found nothing.

His eyes snapped open.

Her side of the bed remained cold, only the barest impression of where she had lain left on the sheets. Refusing to panic unnecessarily he swung himself off the edge of the bed and pushed his boots back on, mentally tallying a list of places she could possibly be.

She was still weak, fragile despite Morgause's healing magic and she couldn't have walked far in her condition. He scrubbed a hand through his hair. How long had he been asleep for?

He opened the door to the Healing Rooms and took off down the corridor, restraining himself from running. After all, she was safe now. Safe in Camelot. With him.

He knocked briskly on her door, and went in without waiting for a reply. Expecting to see Morgana in her bedroom his stomach clenched in panic when he found the room as empty as it had ever been, with no sign she had ever visited it.

Turning on his heel he headed to the Great Hall instead, convinced that perhaps she had managed a visit to the throne room to speak to his Father. To show him how well she was.

His brisk walk had turned into a run and he couldn't deny it anymore. In fact he was running so fast that when he reached the Throne Room he barged straight through the doors and almost slipped on the blood that was spread thickly over the flagstones.

A sea of crimson covered the floor and now the doors were open it kept on flowing out into the corridor, out down the castle steps into the courtyard.

His boots were stained with it, the leather turning black and sticky as he watched it blankly, unable to quite comprehend what he was seeing.

So much blood.

He tried to close his eyes but he couldn't. They seemed to be glued open, forcing him to stare, stare at so much red.

Helplessly his line of sight was drawn towards the two thrones at the end of the room and the figures sat silently on them.

On the King's throne sat his own reflection, a perfect replica of himself wearing his Father's crown and his Father's frowning expression.

And beside him on the Queen's throne sat Morgana, her own face a perfect blank. Her eyes were sealed shut with tears and her head leaning back against the side of the chair was creased in pain, her body curled protectively up into a ball on the seat.

She was wearing a red dress that covered her arms and her neck and her legs completely.

Except Arthur knew the dress had originally been white and it wasn't material that covered her limbs but blood.

Her blood.

Flowing from her, great rivulets of it running down her chair, lapping over the steps to the dais, licking at his boots. More blood than one tiny human body should ever possibly be able to hold.

Beneath him his legs buckled.

Slowly, oh so slowly, he sank down to the floor, feeling the warmth of Morgana's blood seep into his clothes, her life's essence soaking him to the skin. His hands pressed against the fluid slicked floor and her blood ran into the creases in his palms, tracing the lines on his skin, settling in the hollows and dips of his sword roughened hands. Hands that had held her own lovely, soft, white hands only hours earlier.

He was going to be sick.

"You killed her then." The voice of his double rang out in the Hall, quiet but not accusing. It was a voice that simply stated the facts as though commenting on the weather. "Just like your mother."

Something ragged and wet tore in Arthur's chest and he forced out his denial. "No."

"Then why is there a sword in your hand?" replied his reflection calmly.

Arthur glanced down and there indeed was Excalibur clenched in his right fist, sticky black with Morgana's blood. He tried to let go but the sword was wrapped tightly in his locked fingers, like an extra appendage, fused. Part of him. The black red blood on the blade slowly began to creep up towards his fist, defying gravity as it began to trickle in rivulets up the steel.

"I wonder what she thought when you killed her?" his double asked idly. "Do you think she wondered why the man who claimed he loved her was killing her?" His double stood from his chair and leaned over Morgana, his eyes tracing her bleeding form with absent curiosity. "I wonder what hurt more? The wound or the pain caused by your betrayal?"

"Get away from her," Arthur murmured, rising to his knees.

"She can't feel anything, Arthur," his double replied amused. "She's just a corpse, remember?" He lifted Morgana's head up by her hair and then let go. It fell back heavily against the throne as though in slow motion and made a small wet sound as her skull cracked against the wooden arm. "See? You killed her and now she can't feel anything anymore. The damage is already done."

"Leave her alone!" Arthur yelled, struggling to his feet even as the blood sucked at his clothes and shoes. The black blood on the blade had reached his fingers now, and it was hot and thick as it wrapped around his wrist like a shackle.

"Oh, Arthur. Always so valiant. But where is the honour in defending a dead woman?"

"I won't let you hurt her."

His double laughed and picked up Morgana's body carelessly. "No, you already did that well enough all by yourself."

Arthur forced his legs to move through the rising tide of blood. It was creeping up his calves, thick as mud and scalding hot but he had to reach her. "Put her down."

His mirror-self ran a finger down her face calmly. "It's strange isn't it? How you always kill the women who love you? It's almost like you don't want to be loved. Like you don't deserve it. Because you know you're a monster."

"I said. Put. Her. Down."

His reflection blinked slowly and then shrugged his shoulders. "As you wish."

And then he tipped Morgana's body out of his arms.

Arthur lunged for her as she dropped but the blood was rising higher and higher now and it was pulling his legs. He couldn't reach her.

Still she fell.

_Arthur!_

The room began to collapse in around him, the blood rising higher and higher until it formed walls and he couldn't see Morgana anymore. She was gone and he was cut off from her by a sea of red. The blood was nearly at the Hall ceiling now, poised above his head. Waiting to crash down.

_Arthur!_

His last thought was of her.

And then the blood swamped him, raining down on his head, covering his body and he was choking, engulfed in a swirling tornado of blood and he was drowning in it. In her.

_Arthur!_

"Arthur! Arthur, wake up." Morgana was shaking him frantically. "You're having a nightmare."

His eyes snapped open and he realised he was still on her bed. He was still in the clean white space of the Healing Rooms. He hadn't moved.

She hadn't died.

Her cool fingers pressed gently against his face and kissing them he curled into her and clutched her close, shuddering against her body as her dress grew wet where his head lay.

"It's all right," she murmured soothingly. "It wasn't real, it was just a dream." She combed her fingers through his damp hair and pressed her head against his. "I'm here and everything's fine. I'm here, Arthur. I'm here."

But all Arthur could see was the crimson dress and the never ending flow of blood. Wondered just how long she'd be here for.

* * *

Arthur was staring out of the window fingering his dagger when Bridget walked into his rooms.

"Thank you for knocking," he said, but his voice lacked the customary teasing note it normally held, almost as though he couldn't really be bothered to battle with her today.

"I've always found that announcing one's presence is highly overrated," she replied airily. "I always hear the most interesting things when no-one thinks I'm there."

Arthur sighed. "Is there a point to this visit?"

"We need to talk," she said seriously, shutting the door behind her. "About you."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"It must be something. You've been like this for a week."

"Like what?"

Bridget stamped her foot impatiently. "Silent. Brooding. Restless. Watching Morgana like a hawk but barely speaking to her."

"Morgana is still healing and needs peace and rest. And I have not been brooding and restless. The kingdom has needed calming after the recent turbulence of the past weeks and I've been busy sorting out guard duties and matters of state."

Bridget folded her arms. "And that doesn't sound rehearsed at all."

"Are you accusing me of lying?" Arthur's voice was poised low but he sounded tired more than threatening.

"No, I'm accusing you of avoiding the question. Of avoiding us. I want to know why."

"You're not my Father."

"No," she said pointedly, "I'm your friend. Why won't you tell me what's wrong? We're all worried about you."

Arthur sighed and pressed his head against the cool stone of the window arch. "I-" he hesitated. "It's stupid."

"It's not stupid. Please."

Arthur sank down onto the window ledge, back resting against the glass. He couldn't or wouldn't meet her eyes. "Every night I see her. Morgana. I-I dream that she's dead. There's so much blood. I kill her and she just keeps bleeding," he croaked.

"It's just a dream, Arthur, it isn't real."

"I know that," he snapped angrily, but then reigned in his temper at the sight of her chastened expression. "Sorry. It's just that it did happen. I almost killed her. I stabbed her and she almost died. It's my fault and I see it every time I close my eyes."

"But she didn't die. She's recovering well and missing you-"

"But don't you see?" Arthur interrupted harshly. "The closer I get to Morgana, to anyone, the more in danger they become. I could hurt her just by being with her."

"You're hurting her now with her absence. She thinks she's done something wrong." She lowered her voice. "Morgana thinks you hate her because you've remembered she used magic. That you've changed your mind about how you feel and that's why you've been avoiding her."

"No," he exclaimed loudly. "I would never think that! I don't care that she uses magic, I don't care about her dreams being visions-"

"Because you love her."

Arthur looked at her steadily for a moment. Then he nodded tightly.

"Then don't you think you ought to tell her that?"

* * *

When Arthur knocked on Morgana's door it was Uther who answered.

"Yes?"

Arthur stuck his head round the door and didn't meet Morgana's eyes. "Father. Could I have a word with Morgana, please? In private?"

"Of course." Uther squeezed her hand and kissed the crown of her head. "I'll see you tomorrow, Morgana. We'll talk more then."

As the bedroom door closed Arthur took the vacant seat beside the fireplace and idly warmed his hands against the roaring blaze. Gwen had banked it high and the room was cosy and warm, though he noticed Morgana was wearing her thickest dress and was surrounded by a mound of brightly stitched blankets.

He realised she was waiting for him to say something. "You've upgraded from the bed to the chair then. Gaius must think you're improving."

What might have been a smile flickered across her face but it was gone before he could be sure. Instead she nodded and gazed at the fire, dark hair sliding forward to veil her face in shadow.

"Yes. Personally I think I'm well enough for a walk outside of my room but Gaius doesn't want me to rush anything and of course Uther frets and agrees." Seeing the unasked question in his eyes Morgana continued. "Your Father was asking me if I remembered anything from being possessed by the Fossegrim." She hesitated. "I thought it best to tell him I don't remember much and that the little I do is blurred and half recalled, almost like I'm floating in a dream or underwater for a very long time."

In the awkward silence that fell, Morgana fiddled with the blankets across her legs. The top one was dyed red with gold stars and dragons embroidered on it and with a stab of recognition he knew it as the one his Mother had stitched whilst she had been pregnant with him.

It had lain over the bed in the unused Queen's apartments ever since he had been born. Arthur had only ever seen it a handful of times and only when he was very sick. His Father would bring it out of his Mother's rooms and tuck it over him and if he breathed very deeply then he imagined he could still catch the very faint scent of his Mother- lilies and star jasmine.

He wondered if Morgana knew who had made the blanket and what it meant. Wondered if she knew how much his Father loved her for him to offer it to her now.

He realised that she was watching him from beneath her lashes.

"I know what you've come to say," she said eventually.

"I'm sorry," they said in unison.

Arthur's brow creased. "Why are you apologising?"

"Because I lied to you - I didn't tell you I was using magic, I didn't tell you my dreams were prophetic," she bit her lip, "though I've wanted to – tried to on several occasions." She met his eye boldly as though she wasn't afraid of his rejection, of his disgust, but he knew her too well to be fooled by her façade of control. "Are you very angry?"

He shook his head and took the hand that rested upon his Mother's blanket. "I understand why you said nothing."

Morgana glanced down at their hands and slowly twined her fingers with his. "Then, what are you apologising for?"

"Bridget made me realise I've been acting like the biggest fool these past few days. I let my fear of losing you almost drive me away."

"Arthur," she interrupted, "you're not going to lose me."

"I almost did and it was my fault," he pointed out impatiently.

"We've been through this, there was nothing else you could have done; you didn't have a choice-"

"But that doesn't change the fact that I still feel the guilt!" he argued, rising from his chair. "For the love of Camelot, Morgana, I'm the reason you almost died!"

Her eyes sparked and she gently pushed his Mother's blanket away as she rose too, unsteady but determined as Arthur watched her carefully, ready to catch her if she wavered.

Her cheeks flushed, she crossed her arms and frowned. "And don't you see that I love you and that I don't care about what happened? You were trying to save your friends; you were trying to protect Camelot and your people- why can't you see that that doesn't make you a monster?"

And suddenly Morgana realised that Arthur was looking at her with an indecipherable expression.

"What did you say?" he whispered.

"I said that I don't care about what happened down by the lake because you were doing your duty-"

"No before that, you said that you love me."

Morgana frowned and took a step back. "No I didn't."

"Yes you did." A slow grin was spreading over his features as he moved forwards to narrow the distance once more. "I distinctly heard you say that you love me before you started to berate me about my position as Prince."

Morgana had gone white. "I…I think you're hearing things, Arthur Pendragon. As if I would ever say that-that…."

"You love me?" he finished gently. "If it helps, I love you too."

Morgana's eyes filled with tears. "I-" she crossed her arms stubbornly. "This is completely ridiculous, as if I would ever say something like that to you. Perhaps I should ask Gaius to examine you; he should be coming by in a few minutes-"

Arthur gave her a knowing smile and tugged her closer to him. "Morgana," he muttered. "Do shut up."

Silencing her outraged protest he kissed her, pressing his lips firmly against her own as his arms slid around her waist. He felt her hands rest across the breadth of his shoulders and she sighed into his mouth as she began to kiss him back. Mindful of her still healing body he kept his touch light; his mouth pressing delightfully unhurried kisses to her mouth even as Morgana moved impatiently against him, sliding her body flush against his. Her fingers curled into his hair, nails raking along his scalp and he shivered. He felt her satisfied smile against his lips and growled, casually trailing one hand up her side, deliberately brushing against her thigh, her hip, her breast, so that she gasped into his mouth as his fingers ran back down to splay into the arch of her back.

She pulled away, one eyebrow arched even as he took in her flushed cheeks and rumpled hair, held as she was within the circle of his arms.

"Well?" he asked lazily, the sly light of victory in his eyes.

"Fine," she admitted petulantly. "I do love you, despite my better judgement and against the advice of our friends."

"Now Morgana, there's no need to sound so sour about it," he chided playfully.

"Then don't sound so smug," she retorted before linking her arms around his neck and pressing her mouth against his, effectively ending any further conversation.

* * *

Two days later and Gaius had deemed Morgana fit enough to leave her bedroom and make it down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Uther had greeted her enthusiastically and helped her to her seat and now the two of them sat exchanging pleasantries, even as Arthur watched her with a quiet look of affection on his face.

Bridget watched the two of them shrewdly over her porridge, even as she heaped honey, cream and cinnamon into her bowl. She caught Merlin's eye.

He rolled his and mimed being sick.

Bridget smiled into her breakfast as Arthur noticed what his servant was doing and silently threw a bread roll at his head.

Uther, oblivious as usual, saw nothing.

As Merlin brushed crumbs from his hair Lord Bedworth wandered into the Great Hall and seated himself at the table beside his daughter.

"Last day today then, Bridget. I hope your maid has packed your trunks?"

Bridget's smile dipped and she nodded. "Yes Father, Gwen's exceptionally organised."

"And have you any plans?" he asked, as Merlin placed a steaming bowl of porridge and a rack of toasted bread before him.

"Not really."

Morgana put her spoon down and ran her finger over the grain of table. "I'm sorry Bri, I know I've neglected you this past week and a half. I haven't been a very good friend-"

"You've been ill, it's hardly your fault," Bridget interrupted.

"Still, we should make the most of your last day," she replied determinedly. She cast around for an idea and then brightened. "Why don't we go riding? Camelot looks beautiful from the west and there's a lovely view from one of the hills that looks down into the valley."

Uther balked at the idea, however. "Please tell me you're joking, Morgana. In your condition you wouldn't stay on your mare more than two minutes."

"I hardly think two minutes is fair, Father," said Arthur.

Morgana's brows rose in grateful surprise. "Thank you."

"I give her four," he continued.

"You could share," said Bridget practically, even as Morgana shot him a withering look. "If Arthur sits behind you, you wouldn't fall. We could take a picnic." She shot a knowing look at them. "It would be very romantic."

Uther, however, had other ideas and put his foot down. "It's out of the question. I know you're feeling claustrophobic in the castle, Morgana, but I can't have you risk your health so carelessly. Until Gaius says so you're not to leave the grounds."

"Why don't we have a picnic in the gardens then?" said Bridget before Morgana could argue with the king. "It's a warm day and if we wrap Morgana up and take a knight with us in case we need to fetch Gaius, say Sir Bedivere," she asked innocently, "then surely even the physician can't object to some fresh air?"

Uther considered the proposal thoughtfully before nodding slowly. "As long as Gaius agrees then that is acceptable."

"Excellent," said Bridget, tucking into her breakfast enthusiastically. "I'll go and fetch Bedivere myself then and meet you in the Lily Gardens. I'm sure your cooks can produce something suitably scrumptious in the meantime and we'll have a lovely time."

* * *

"You were a long time," observed Morgana, looking up from her book as she leaned back against the broad trunk of an old maple tree.

"We got lost," Bridget replied smoothly as Bedivere followed behind her carrying the picnic hamper.

The knight, Morgana noted, said nothing but looked rather satisfied. They both did she detected wryly.

As he stationed himself a discreet distance from the two women and Bridget unpacked their luncheon, Morgana stretched her arms up above her head and sighed.

"I wish you didn't have to go."

Bridget smiled softly and chuckled. "Darling, you'd get bored of me quickly enough if I was always here. Besides I'd drive Arthur mad." She paused thoughtfully, "though that may be a good reason to stay. I do find such sport in irritating him."

"He enjoys it too, I'm sure," Morgana replied dryly.

"Speaking of Arthur, you two seem to have made up rather well. Anything I should know about? Should I be buying a new dress anytime soon?"

"We're not engaged, so don't start planning our wedding just yet, Bri," she said. "But we have told each other how we feel."

Bridget squealed in excitement. "You mean he told you he loved you? And you told him you loved him too?"

"Yes."

"Huzzah! I was wondering when the L word would finally be mentioned," she confided enthusiastically. "I'm so pleased for you both."

"Why are you pleased and who for?" came Arthur's voice as he wandered over to the picnic spot.

"Morgana's just told me about your mutual declaration of affection for each other. Though she hasn't gone into all the gory details," she shot her friend a look, "but I'll get those later. Anyway," she continued as Arthur and Morgana exchanged slightly worried looks, "this does make this list I've created perhaps a little redundant but nevertheless."

She retrieved a piece of parchment from the picnic basket and handed it to Morgana whose eyes widened as she began to read.

Arthur looked at Bridget suspiciously. "What is this list?"

"Well you were feeling so cut up about hurting Morgana that I thought I'd create a sort of penance sheet to help you out. You could do any or all of the activities I've suggested and ease your guilt, though," she pointed out, "you don't seem to feel much blame anymore since you and Morgana worked things out."

Arthur frowned as Morgana began to laugh at what she was reading. "Why do I know I should I be worried?" He snatched the sheet away from her. "Give me this list."

He scanned down the parchment, his expression growing less and less amused as he went.

"Firstly, I am not dressing up as a woman-"

"But you'd look really sweet," objected Bridget. "I think you'd suit a dress, though you'd have to wear a corset because, let's face it, you have started to pile on the pounds."

"I am not fat!" Arthur glared at her. "And I'm not wearing a dress either," he added. "Neither am I dancing through the Great Hall in just my codpiece-"

Morgana had tears rolling down her cheeks now as she laughed.

"Nor will I let Merlin do _that_ to me-"

Bridget pouted but shrugged. "Your call. He seemed perfectly happy to do it when I mentioned it to him earlier."

"And I'm not going in the stocks and letting you throw fruit at me."

"But you haven't even considered it."

"I don't have to; these ideas are all mad," he argued. "You're mad."

"All the best people are," Bridget smirked. "I'm surprised you haven't made him propose, Morgana."

There was a sudden silence as Morgana and Arthur turned to stare at her.

"What?" said Bridget, shrugging. "If you're going to stab a girl, the least you can do is marry her. Only seems fair."

"I thought we were punishing Arthur, not me," said Morgana dryly, even as she blushed.

Arthur suddenly cleared his throat. "Well, I should see about getting back to the knights training. I left Gwaine in charge which may have been a mistake, so I'd better go."

As he hurried out of the garden Bridget smirked. "Was it something I said?"

* * *

There was not a single cloud in the sky the day the House of Dunheny departed from Camelot. As Uther said his final goodbyes to Bedworth in the courtyard Bridget stood with her friends near the keep entrance.

"So if we have a rain of flesh eating manticores then it's all your fault," said Merlin unhappily as they stood on the steps.

"What can I say? I'm a romantic," smirked Bridget and held out her hand. "Pay up."

"More like a mercenary," he grumbled, handing over three silver coins.

"Always a pleasure doing business with you, Merlin."

Morgana crossed her arms from where she stood, leaning against Arthur for support. "Bri, were you betting again? I thought your Father had forbidden you from ever gambling again after that incident with the wine merchant and the naked man."

"What Father doesn't know won't hurt him. Just…don't tell him. Or Bedivere."

Arthur's eyebrows rose as he nodded over to the knight who was making final checks to the horses. "I see Sir Bedivere will be accompanying you back home."

Bridget turned and waved at the knight as he checked the stirrups on her saddle. She turned back with a sly grin on her face. "Well I have to have something pretty to look at on the journey home. It is so very long and boring otherwise."

"I remember the countryside on that journey being very beautiful," Morgana recalled.

"Yes, but who wants to look at a lot of very old, very dull trees passing by when there's a good looking man around?" she replied coyly.

"Good point."

"My Lady, your Father says we're ready to depart," interjected a servant quietly by her elbow.

"Go and tell him I'm coming," she said and as the servant scurried off Morgana hugged her friend tightly.

"I'm going to miss you."

Arthur remained pointedly silent.

"It's been a pleasure as always, Arthur," said Bridget, rolling her eyes good naturedly.

She turned to go but Arthur caught her hand before she left and squeezed it seriously. "Have a safe journey back, Bri and remember you're always welcome at Camelot."

"Why Arthur, I believe that was almost sincere," she re-joined easily, but squeezed his hand back tightly. "Take good care of each other," she said earnestly, casting her gaze over Arthur, Morgana, Merlin and Gwen. "And if you can help it, try not to get into too much trouble while I'm not here." She smiled. "I wouldn't want to miss any of the fun."

And then Bedivere was taking her elbow and steering her over to her horse. As she mounted easily and the group began to move off she turned round on her mount and waved.

"By the way, I fully expect to be a bridesmaid, Morgana!" she called. "And I like June weddings!"

* * *

Merlin glanced up from where he'd been folding clothes into the prince's cupboards as Gwen wandered in. He pleated the arm of a shirt sleeve and then fiddled with the buttons.

"I told you, you shouldn't have taken that bet with Lady Bridget," she said quietly as she walked over to give him a hand with the laundry.

"She cheated," was his reply.

"How?"

"She told Arthur that he was in love in Morgana and that he should tell her." He folded a stubborn white shirt particularly vigorously. "It would have taken him ages to figure that out on his own, or at least the year's time limit anyway. I would have won then."

Gwen smiled gently. "Still, even though you lost it is wonderful, don't you think?"

"Wonderful?"

"Morgana and Arthur. Declaring their love for each other. It's like the stuff of fairy tales," she sighed into the basket of clothes. "I wonder when he'll propose?"

"Hopefully never," Merlin muttered. "It's a disaster as it is."

"Glad to see you're looking on the bright side of things as always."

"Something bad is going to happen," Merlin said seriously. "I told you a catastrophe was coming if they did this-"

"But nothing bad has happened."

"Precisely. We're owed something, and the longer nothing happens the worse it's going to be."

Gwen rolled her eyes. "Everything's going to be fine."

"That's what you always say and look what happens," he pointed out, folding his arms in frustration. "No-one stays happy in Camelot long. Why won't you believe me?"

Gwen smiled softly and kissed his cheek. "Because I am a determined optimist and love conquers all. Arthur and Morgana can defeat anything anyone throws at them. Even your cynicism."

"It's not cynicism, it's reality."

Gwen shook her head gently and smiled. "Well, when you've finished brooding over what next disaster is going to befall Camelot, Cook has made extra scones and it's first come first served, so hurry up and come downstairs."

With one final smile she turned and left, leaving Merlin to muse quietly.

What he hadn't told Gwen was that he could feel it on the periphery of his mental magical vision, something dark and brooding, something biding the time and waiting to strike. Gaius, like Gwen, had dismissed the feeling but it was only growing stronger with the passage of days and Merlin turned back to the window pensively.

"Something is coming."

He ran his fingers over the stones in the walls as though to reassure himself of something solid, of the sure foundations of the castle, but his expression remained foreboding.

"Something very, very bad."

* * *

In the highest room in Cenred's castle, Morgause moved away from her scrying pool and smiled.

"Well, Merlin, I'd hate to disappoint you."

She grinned, sharp white teeth flashing and flexed her fingers, magic tingling in the tips.

"This is going to be _so_ much fun."

* * *

**Please Read and Review!**

**It's been a pleasure to create and write this story and it's been wonderful reading your responses to it. **

**This tale is now definitely completed...**

**though if you ask very, very nicely there may be a sequel or two in me somewhere ;)**


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